<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>endurance, change, hope, life by oviostron</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399202">endurance, change, hope, life</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviostron/pseuds/oviostron'>oviostron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime &amp; Manga)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dark, BAMFs, Black Clover Manga Spoilers, Character Development, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Relationships, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Mute Asta (Black Clover), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Canon, Rare Pairings, Smarter Asta (Black Clover), Suggestive Themes</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 00:34:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>5</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>45,023</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27399202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/oviostron/pseuds/oviostron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The “Butterfly Effect”—the idea of small things having a non-linear impact in a complex system. The flutter of a single butterfly’s wings in the Noble Realm can create a rainy day in the Forsaken Realm. This logic is applied to Asta’s life, unfortunately, when an extra wound from that thieving townsman changes his life forever.</p><p>OR: yuno is desperately trying to make up for his incapabilities, and asta is the hull of all things impossible. despite the struggles and various handicaps between the two boys, mereoleona and william simply see fires to fuel for the long journey ahead.</p><p>[au, mute asta]</p><p>[SPOILERS for spade kingdom arc, 250ish+]</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Asta &amp; Liebe (Black Clover), Asta &amp; WIlliam Vangeance, Asta &amp; Yuno (Black Clover), Julius Novachrono/Mereoleona Vermillion, Yuno &amp; Mereoleona Vermillion, Yuno &amp; Noelle Silva &amp; Leopold Vermillion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>80</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>174</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>IAmStoryteller's Best of Black Clover Fic Rec</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. sehnsuct</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26462062">Between You and Me, There is An Ocean</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/IAmStoryteller/pseuds/IAmStoryteller">IAmStoryteller</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>ayo?? another ongoing story 🙄🤚 hehe</p><p>anyways, this one has no time travel :0 love to see change of pace right</p><p>so, before yall start reading: im going to be putting a *TW* for intentional (but not suicidal) SELF HARM. please proceed w caution ily ❤️</p><p>as always, enjoy :)</p><p>wc: 6.3k</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p class="p1">
    <span class="s1"><strong>sehnsucht</strong>—<em>(n.) an intense yearning for something far off and indefinable</em></span>
  </p>
</blockquote><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The first night is incredibly rough.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Sister Lily has to stay up all night to attend to Asta’s wrangling throat, but her water healing magic can only do so much. As the night goes on, Yuno can see that there is obvious and irreversible damage; the blood that’d flown onto the snow was very telling, anyways, so he hadn’t had his hopes very high in the first place. To make this first night even worse, Yuno finds himself shaking with apprehension and chills. The winter cold always seems to seep into the church, but tonight feels especially…bad. The blankets are icy and stiff under his hands, they’re providing no comfort and there isn’t a single sign of warmth in the fabric.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno can admit that the skirmish they had with that pathetic man left them both chilled to the bone, but not…this chilled. He doesn’t know his own feelings for this situation at all, and even though he’s hurting in more ways than one, extremely exhausted and could fall into a deep slumber sitting up, he knows that he shouldn’t let this strange cold scare him so much. Asta is fighting a battle right now. Yuno is terrified that he’ll lose it. He cries when he’s in almost any type of situation, and it’s particularly true for intense ones. Asta never cries despite being scared, Yuno knows it so, and after that desperate fight with the thief, the resolve to never cry again is the anchor of his determination tonight. He absolutely can not cry, especially now—not when Asta is writhing in discomfort and pain because of Yuno’s own incapabilities.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That bastard…that bastard had turned so fast to jam his fingers into Asta’s throat. That choking sound Yuno had heard will be forever engraved into his heart, and he knows it’s true because he can already it hear it echoing in the ruffling sound of the cold, stiff blankets. Like stones, the choked sound bounces between his ears and his useless blanket. He isn’t looking at that, though. Yuno couldn’t find it in himself to take his eyes off the bandages that are wrapped around Asta’s neck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s because of his deepening thoughts that his stare continues strong for the entirety of the first night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta, Yuno and Lily simply don’t sleep. They work the day’s lightweight chores with bags under their eyes. With no extra hands, they’re the ones that have to do it. Peasantry knows no wounds, but they quietly rest their bodies when they’re done working.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The second night is a little less grueling, but there is a clear weight of stress. Yuno can see the emotions hanging in the air like heavy rain clouds. Sister Lily’s recovery magic isn’t doing the job. What Asta needs is genuine medical care, but there isn’t a single doctor advanced enough to handle such a specific wound for hundreds of miles. Recovery magic is his best bet for emergency aide…still yet, a magic user like that is nowhere near Hage. Lily is decent enough that she can stop the blood and the pain, but a damaged voice box is a complex thing to heal. It requires a higher knowledge that she simply doesn’t have. Her skill level in recovery magic is good enough to close immediate damage, and to numb the pain for the time being.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In the middle of the second sleepless night, Yuno quietly excuses himself. Lily doesn’t have the chance to chase after him, and, for the past two nights now, their Father has been out searching for any medical professional willing to help for a pathetic handful of yuls. Because his family is so small, he’s going to be on his lonesome for tonight. It’s exactly what he wants, anyways. He has a crazy and stupid idea to execute tonight, and even though he isn’t with a grimoire yet, he feels like he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even with that in mind, he grabs one of the two glass cups that the church has from the run-down cabinet, and marches himself all the way up to the underneath of Hage’s inexplicably big horned skull. Inside is a marvelous and perfect area for magic practice, though no one uses it, and the space it creates is everything he needs in order to be successful…if he ever is successful—but he can’t think like that. This is for Asta. He can’t fail Asta again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Yuno is within the cavity of the cranium, nerves bursting like surfacing air bubbles, he finds a suitable rock to smash the glass against. Without any hesitation, he strikes the rock with the brittle cup. It shatters easily enough into three big pieces, and a good handful of smaller pieces. He pays no mind to the small ones that fall into the foliage, though. His goal is to inflict a single wound.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grabs one of the bigger pieces, and rolls up his opposing sleeve. The edge of the sharp glass presses against the top of his hand. The pressure makes Yuno grit his teeth with a strong wince; the pain of the shard buried in his hand has his steadfast hope faltering despite all of his determination. However, he doesn’t stop. He pushes himself to prepare for pain—the same pain Asta has to endure right because all there is to do is cry—and he makes one long, vertical cut that goes from the back of his hand all the way up to his elbow. Blood billows, spills, and drips; he grimaces at the immense burning it causes, the cold of the night is very noticeable on the opening of his cut, but he pushes through. This is for Asta, he absolutely can not falter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The instant the glass shard is at his elbow, and he’s done making the alarmingly long cut, he tosses it away without any mind of where it could go. Yuno, without another thought, without consideration, without an idea, and only with a passion, puts his hands out and forward. The blood from the top of his arm is nearly flooding. He ignores it, and works to willfully summon mana. A breeze blows by, completely disregarding Yuno’s intent. It’s followed by more gusts, but nothing really happens.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tries again. Breezes, and nothing. He tries again. A single strong gust, but it’s nowhere near his hands and it only ruffles his hair. He tries again. Another strong gust, but it’s emitting from his front side. It tickles the grass and shimmers through the trees. It rolls off the walls of the demon’s cranium, howling as it travels, but nothing happens.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tries again. This time, a precise blast of wind shatters the giant rock in front of him, blowing a bunch of debris and dirt everywhere. The ground is horribly ruined. It gets in his eyes, his ears, his mouth, but he doesn’t move. His face grows hot, his teeth clamp together, and breathing suddenly feels like the hardest thing to do. Is this what it’s like to feel genuine anger?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” Yuno mutters, his voice shaking with sadness and frustration. “Why do I have to be so weak? I couldn’t do anything to save Asta…so let me use recovery magic!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tries again. Another blast of wind shreds the ground apart.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Damn it all!” he screams, and in spite of his irritation with himself, he tries again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For the next few hours, he stands in that position. He tries and tries and tries and tries, dirt in between his teeth and inside of his nose, blood crusting over his entire forearm. Hot tears and sweat leaves dry trails all over his cheeks and forehead, and he can’t catch his breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why can’t he do this? Why can’t he be useful?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Brat. What in the actual hell are you doing?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno pushes out a blast of wind that violently rips into the dirt, again, but it does nothing. So he tries once again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s another blow of wind born of his efforts, worthy of a storm, but…nothing happens.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey! Did you fucking hear me, kid? What the hell are you doing? I’m trying to sleep here!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That hot, crippling emotion that mimics a boiling rage rips through Yuno’s mindless concentration like a badger’s claw swipe. He doesn’t move his feet, they stay planted, but he does clutch his hands and minces the stray debris between his teeth. He really can’t do this, can he?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Blue and red appear in his face—it’s a woman, with bright, unkempt, red hair and blue eyes. There’s a vermillion red outlining her eyelashes and waterline. Her face is initially smoothed by seriousness and curiosity, but it stitches itself into a deep frown when she sees that Yuno’s well-being is in decline. Their breath is visible in the cold of the night, but Yuno is huffing and puffing like a blizzard. Staring into those sea-blue eyes, Yuno finds an unexpected sense of tranquility. He begins to realize that he can’t feel his face, his lungs hurt from the stinging cold, his injured arm hurts like hell despite the chill, and he is shaking. Every shiver feels more like a muscle spasm, and it…it really, really hurts.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What were you doing?” she asks again. Her voice isn’t vulgar-toned nor boisterous like before. It’s very pointed and strong, and nowhere near gentle, but her overall demeanor is much more friendly. “Your arm is horribly cut. You need medical attention.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno knows he’s stuttering because of the violent shivering. His resolve to never cry again is still strong. “I-I wa—was trying to—to l-learn,” he sputters. That boiling feeling that’d ripped through his whole body earlier is slowly melting into a feeling of…reluctant irresponsibility. He’s unsuccessful again, just another burden to Sister Lily, and another thing to make Asta protect him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The stranger’s hands wrap around his stone-cold fists, careful enough to avoid the deep wound that’s on the top of his hand. They encompass his skinny fingers and tiny knuckles. Yuno feels a slight of shock as his fists realize the amount of warmth they’re missing. “What were you trying to learn?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“R-recovery ma—magic…” Yuno mutters, shame seeping into his voice. Will she call him stupid for this? It’s a stupid idea, anyways.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Seriously?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“W-what?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s stupid.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He clenches his teeth, twisting his lips into a sneer as he becomes enraged. His fists tighten as he tries to resist the urge to physically attack this stranger, but he knows it’s not right. This is reality.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The woman gives Yuno a panning expression that disappears fast enough to not be questioned. “You can’t learn it, which is stupid. You’re not the stupid one,” she explains gruffly. “You don’t have a grimoire yet. Until you have one, you’ll never be able to use recovery magic. I doubt you’ll even have recovery spells. You’re an attack mage all the way through judging by the damage you did to this area.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno forgets to feel angry, and feels defeated instead. For a second, he succumbs to it but denial and determination kick it all away. “No! I n-need a powerful one as s-s-soon as possible!” he exclaims.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She cocks an eyebrow. “Why is that? Your pops out of work or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno looks down at their hands. He can start to feel the pain in his injured arm as her warmth dominates his cold. “N-no,” he replies. “My—b-brother…” Although just a foster brother, he feels far too strongly about their bond, “…he s-stopped a thief from t-taking my necklace, but…but…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He stops himself. Talking about it still feels so overwhelming. The sound of Asta’s choking is echoing in his head, bouncing between his ears. It’s…horrible. It’s torture.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did your brother get hurt?” she asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno can only nod. He’s trying so hard to not cry, and his eyes are closing with the amount of strain his body is feeling. He doesn’t understand it—he’s been wide awake this whole time, why become drowsy now?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let me take you home,” the woman states. “You need to fix yourself up. Where do you live?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“U-um…the church,” he manages. He feels incredibly exhausted. “In Hage. I-it’s just down the road.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, kid, I’ll take you there. You can rest now. It’s okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno blinks, trying his very best to stay awake. “No…I need to help my brother,” he says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The woman gives him a certain look he simply doesn’t understand. “You’re too stubborn for your own good,” she grumbles. With a huff, she raises her voice to be loud and stern. “Listen here, kid! You will never discover whether or not you have an affinity for recovery magic just by blasting air around this big skull, in the dead of night, with a big ass cut on your arm. You will know what type of wind mage you’ll be when you receive your grimoire. For now, don’t be an idiot. Let’s get your arm fixed up, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno says nothing right away. With honey orbs shining with the threat of tears, he looks into the woman’s sturdy ocean eyes. The look in her eyes is impeccable in this moment. They share the same shine as Asta. This woman will not give up and take no for an answer. He gives in. “…Alright…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t sound defeated!” she yells. Yuno winces at the sudden change in volume. “You’re a determined little brat, never lose your spirit! You have a strong brother. Match his strength.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The words imprint on him like a brand. To match Asta’s strength…he can do it, can’t he? No…no, he should do it. Being so desperately stupid isn’t something Asta wants. Yuno knows he would want him to be strong-willed and full of resolve instead. He can do it, and he will do it. He will match Asta’s strength.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I like the look in your eyes,” the woman comments. “Very good. Now, let’s get you home.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno only nods, and keeps ahold of her hand as they start the walk back.</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yuno!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Almost immediately, he lets go of the red woman and runs to Sister Lily. Despite his arm wound, he latches onto her waist with his fingers digging into her clothes. His nose becomes stuffy, and his eyes water up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She embraces him back with a comforting aura. The icky feelings he’s been experiencing all night melt away into relief and warmth. He’s home, and he can close his eyes now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you his…mother?” the red woman asks hesitantly. Her doubts are evident in the tone of her voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lily looks up to the newcomer, a flash of familiarity crossing her face before she smiles. “No. I am his caretaker,” she replies. “My name is Sister Lily. What happened to Yuno? He disappeared a few hours ago…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman’s eyes linger on Yuno for a few moments, waiting to see if he would provide an explanation because she sure as hell doesn’t know enough, but his eyes are closed. She crosses her arms and tuts. “He was trying to use recovery magic,” she states.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lily’s eyes widen. “Yuno was? You’re certain?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He told me so,” she replies pointedly. “He said his brother got hurt, and that he wanted to heal his wound. I had to explain to him that the way he was doing it was wrong.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what way was he doing it wrong…?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman puts out her arm and mimics the long wound Yuno had created. “He cut himself from here to here, and tried to use blasts of wind to create recovery magic. He needs medical attention for it. It’s pretty bad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Immediately, Lily departs from the hug with Yuno. He’s knocked out of his dazed slumber, and cries out in pain when Lily’s alarm accidentally bumps his injured arm. She lets out a gasp. “Yuno! What is this?” she cries out. “What in the world were you thinking? Come, inside! We need to get you cleaned up!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yuno opens his mouth to say something, but he’s stunted by a jolt of pain, a wave of exhaustion, and a slap of shame. He can’t even fathom explaining this to Asta. Could he ever face him after doing something so stupid, and so soon after failing to be anything worth protecting?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">(Later, he’ll think back on this moment as a time of weakness, and use it as a reminder for his strong willpower. And even later on, he’ll realize that it’s okay to feel like this.)</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh! I’m terribly sorry for the trouble Yuno has caused you!” Lily says. “Please, if it’s alright, come inside and make yourself at home. It’s the least I can offer after everything you’ve done for my family.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman smiles slightly, relieved that the boy is finally receiving some medical care, but she says nothing. Her words would only further delay them. She follows the rushing duo inside the dimly lit church, closing the doors behind herself in silence. She simply watches, and stays put in the backend of the aisle. Lily and Yuno disappear behind the biggest cross in the front of the room, and suddenly—yet not unexpectedly—the red woman is all alone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But not for long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Within a minute of Lily’s fuss fading into the backend of the church, new movement catches her eye. From the opposing side of the cross emerges another young boy. He’s considerably different in appearance to the other one—much shorter, a little darker with emeralds for eyes, and muddy blond hair. He wears well-worn clothing, a headband of bandages to most notably accompany the outfit. The next thing the red woman can see is that there are bandages over his throat, cushioned by cotton and fastened by a gentle knot. He’s wide awake, and likely has been up for a few hours.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That woman of the cloth had mentioned a foster family. Perhaps this is the injured brother the young, stupid boy had been trying too hard for.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman steps forward a bit. Only two steps, in fact, and the muddy blond kid jumps out of his skin. He takes in an alarmed and shrill gasp of air. It’s silent, howling through his throat with a ghastly wet sound, though with the way he’d reacted she’d been expecting a yelp or outcry. His throat is wrapped due to an injury, and it’s handicapping him…or at least she believes so through pure observation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Halfway through the dramatic gasp, however, he falls into a violent fit of coughs. She stares at him, uncertain of what it meant, but she comes to be concerned when he covers his mouth and hunches over. It’s a familiar position to say the least. Many who’ve been defeated by her before do it when they can’t breathe, or are in a lot of pain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Naturally, she feels…worried—maybe even panicked. For sure, though, she feels confused by her continued acts of concern. One charitable move, and suddenly she’s surrounded by a struggling foster family who feels indebted over a single delivery. It makes her wonder if the Forsaken Realm is really this desperate and helpless in times of peril. For children to be this injured and unattended…what the hell is the royal capital doing anyways?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman is by the coughing kid’s side pretty fast, though she has no clue what she could do to help him. The only thing that she can genuinely say that she knows about kids is that they’re literally incomplete human beings. Oh—they need food, sleep…water…and shelter. Maybe some attention, too. Oh! They also drink uh…breast milk—at one point, yes, she recalls her baby brother doing that kind of thing—but she’s blatantly helpless on just about everything else.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the fit is done, he pulls his hand away and grimaces. There’s a palmful of blood, phlegm, and saliva. His body hadn’t held back on the contents, that’s for sure. The red woman grimaces with him, but she doesn’t stay silent. “Are you okay?” she asks. “Coughing up blood isn’t a good sign. Did you get yourself sick?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shakes his head as he wipes the blood on his shorts. He turns to face her and gestures to his bandaged throat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you hurt your neck recently?” she asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The kid nods.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Why aren’t you speaking?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once again, he gestures to his throat. There’s a certain pain in his eyes that the red woman knows isn’t because of that harsh coughing fit. It’s a mental type of pain that takes years for even the toughest to shake off, born of intense situations and responsive emotional eruption. It’s trauma.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hm…your throat is injured, and you can’t speak because of it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The kid nods somberly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I see. Your…brother, I suppose, is being driven crazy by guilt,” she states. She continues to explain when he looks confused. “He got himself hurt because he feels helpless right now. I don’t know what happened to cause that wound of yours—but you need to let him know that he isn’t helpless.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His eyes widen a bit, and he opens his mouth as if to speak. A struggling sound escapes, just barely hinting at what he’d tried to say, but he stops himself. He presses his hand to the base of his neck with a surprisingly down expression. When she’d been talking to him, he seemed bright and happy to be spoken to.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She sighs and crudely pats the top of his head a few times, though she minds her force to not worsen or irritate his head wound. “Don’t get yourself too down about your situation,” she says. “I can tell that you’re a survivor. Survivors are full of determination and can beat anything that comes their way. Family is a survivor’s biggest value, you guys take care of each other. Don’t shut yourself down because of your wound, and snap your brother out of it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks up at her in awe before he gives her a toothy smile and a determined nod.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You most definitely need to create a form of communication for yourself, though, and before anything else happens,” she continues, unprompted but appreciated. “The kingdom has no official form of non-verbal communication that doesn’t inconvenient you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He gives her a look of deep confusion, having absolutely no clue as to what she could mean.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You won’t be able to speak for a long time because of your throat, idiot. You need to be able to talk to people,” she simplifies. Her voice is short, though, and threatens a wrath if he fails to understand again. “Can you use mana?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He pouts and shakes his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At that, she blinks in surprise. Most kids his age would usually have an idea of the feeling that mana has. Some powerful mages could even use magic like Yuno had demonstrated in the skull. She begins to search for mana around her. Of course, there’s the usual beds of natural mana around. Sister Lily’s restless creation water magic is very over-worked, almost entirely used, and Yuno has a massive amount of wind-natured mana that rivals—or maybe even exceeds—the average royal amount. That’s not even the phenomenon, though. Right in front of the red woman is a void. There’s nothing, and the outline of the kid acts as if it repels mana like material that resists water.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He has no magic.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why don’t you have mana?” she asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy gives her a questioning look, blinking in his thoughts before shrugging. She can visualize his movement pushing the natural mana around, but not in any useful way. By the feel of this kid, and the natural mana’s reaction… “You don’t have any magic,” she explains. “I can’t sense an ounce of mana in you, kid. You’re a void.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Shock instills into him. His mouth opens again, though no struggling sound escapes this time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Watching his reaction would be amusing if the reason isn’t so concerning. “I’m sure you’ll be able to do something about it,” she says. “I’ve seen a lot of things in my lifetime, even though I’m young.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy cocks an eyebrow at her young comment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She decides to ignore it for the sake of lightening the mood without insulting her own looks. “The world works in more ways than one. There is no such thing as that set in stone bullsh—I mean…crap.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Apparently, those are the right words to say. Even though she had stuttered over her own vulgar words…he has stars in his eyes. His face is full of admiration, too. It’s really quite amusing, but she isn’t too into it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman tuts, annoyance twisting her face into a hostile sneer. “Don’t give me that look, brat! Just don’t be stupid. That’s all I’m saying!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He nods with the same stars and admiration as if her words aren’t rude and pointed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Silence follows, but it doesn’t stay. Sister Lily finally returns from her attendance with Yuno’s wounds. She smiles sweetly when she catches what she thinks is the two interacting without any problems. Yuno is shadowing her with his head down and his arms behind his back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman prepares herself to shout at him for doing something so cowardly, opening her mouth and puffing her chest up. However, the mute boy stops her from ever getting the chance.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He runs up to Yuno, losing the stars and admiration as soon as he peeps the first hint of his dark-haired brother. His big smile remains, though, and he’s clearly happy to see that Yuno is home. On the other hand, Yuno’s expression is bewildered. He hadn’t expected to be confronted with this positive reaction, and it’s painfully obvious.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The shorter boy grabs Yuno’s shoulders, losing any bright emotions he might’ve had a second ago. His demeanor is entirely serious, and the red woman finds that the switch up is concernedly impressive. Since she can only see Yuno’s face, she simply guesses what the expression could be, but the way Yuno’s eyes are watering up does tell the story just enough for her to understand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lily steps away to give them space, walking into the area that the mute boy originally came from. The red woman is left alone to witness the scene, and she feels like she’s intruding. She crosses her arms and averts her eyes from the emotional scene. Looking around herself and noticing the darkness that’s dimly repelled by candlelight, by fire, just reminds her that she needs to return to her makeshift camp to grab her stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Quietly, she turns and begins to walk down the church aisle. She doesn’t turn around to confirm it, but she knows that one of them is crying.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The night air stings her face as she steps outside. Crickets orchestrate a lovely night song, each note chased away as she begins her journey down the pathway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Miss! Are you leaving?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s Sister Lily. She turns around to meet a fellow pair of sea-blue eyes, though the nun’s under eye is bruised with exhaustion and work. The red woman feels a little conflicted over whether or not she should actually leave—one is greatly loved by magic, and the other hasn’t a speck of mana. One is blessed, and one is…defective.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Any kingdom is only as good as its worst citizens, and that mute boy has probably drawn the shortest straw of them all.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No,” she replies. “I left my pack behind at my camp. I need to retrieve it before it gets stolen.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Lily smiles a bit. “I see,” she says. “I’ll have a bed ready for your return.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Sister.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh—by, the way, miss, what’s your name?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The red woman turns and begins to walk away once again; without a glance, she simply throws her introduction over her shoulder. “Just call me Mereoleona.”</span>
</p><hr/><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta goes to sleep exhausted by his injuries and crying, gently holding Yuno’s injured arm without a second thought for how much space he’s taking up nor whether or not he might hurt his brother in his sleep. Selfishly, he doesn’t care. Yuno bears a physical wound as a reminder of tragedy now, just like Asta…except it’d been self-inflicted and full of desperation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That night, or maybe early morning, he has an odd dream. It feels…surreal. The space he’s in is empty. Nothing but his own being exists in this void. He stares at his surroundings in bewilderment; there isn’t a speck of color or a mark of life. He is alone here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Who…who are you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nevermind, he’s with company.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta turns around and faces…himself. It’s the very same face he sees in their musty mirror, except black, wiggly markings cut through his eyes, runs down his cheeks, and connects to more wiggly lines at his collarbone. The other Asta’s eyes are bright red, with slits instead of orbs, and his sclera is black in contrast to his own white. Most notably, they share the exact same hair. There are four horns on the other Asta’s head, too, a pair of ram-like ones that hug his temples and another short pair that sticks straight up. A three-pronged devil’s tail, jet-black with a pointed tip and rounded at the sides. It reminds the original Asta of the kingdom’s clover symbol, except…it’s deformed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other one waves a clawed hand and leans in eerily close. Asta feels the invasion of his personal space rather strongly, but he doesn’t retaliate. “I’ll ask again,” the other one says. His moving lips reveal sharp, demonic teeth. “Who are you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta blinks. Despite the invasive intentions the other one has, he feels…he feels something here. Specifically, the feeling is in the closeness. It’s incredibly warm and important, and extremely similar to the hug he’d shared with Yuno before sleeping.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We have the same face,” the other one says. He grins maliciously, making sure that his sharp teeth are glinting. “Nice, isn’t it?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You look like you could be my brother,” Asta blurts. Immediately, he winces at the sound of his voice. He can…speak. Well, of course he can speak, this is a dream. Right? This emptiness and this other one is just a part of the dream he’s having tonight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other Asta stares with a twisted expression. One eyebrow is cocked high, and the other is digging deep into the between of his brow bones. The grin falls and morphs into a brooding curve of his mouth. He’s silent, unreadable, but clearly feels displeased by Asta’s suggestive observation. “A…brother.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta ignores every bit of vexed sign coming from the other one. He smiles. “Yeah!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other one tuts, showing an even more piqued expression than before. “That is the dumbest thing I’ve heard,” he remarks. “You’re the dumbest person ever. Who would want to be a brother with someone like me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…by any chance, is it because of the horns?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Irritation explodes from the other one. “No, retard! It’s totally not because of my appearance!” he shouts. “I’m a devil. Why would you want to be related with a devil? You’re human, for fuck’s sake!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As the words get crunched by Asta’s head, he stares. It’s awkward between the two doppelgängers at first, but then Asta snaps his fingers as if it would show how bright of a tool he is. “You’re a devil! That explains the horns and tail for sure, then.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Exasperated, the other one leans away. His jaw is unhinged, and his expression is void of all emotion.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, can I touch your horns? They look freaking awesome!” Asta says as he begins to reach.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The devil is knocked out of his stupor when Asta’s hand touches one of his ram-like horns, gentle and familiar on his head. At first, he’s leaning into the touch. But then the surrounding emptiness reminds him of where he is, and how he got here. He slaps Asta’s hand away. “Stop it!” he snaps. “Don’t pet me. I’m not an animal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh…I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to treat you like that,” Asta says with a genuine tone of apology. “You seemed to like it though. Is a devil’s horn a soft spot? Like a cat ear?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Devils aren’t like animals!” the other one exclaims. “Stop comparing me to an animal!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta laughs. “Sorry, sorry!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But…to answer your question…yes. It does feel nice,” the devil begrudgingly admits. “It hurts, too, like clumps of hair being dipped out but ten times worse.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Stars appear in Asta’s eyes. “Wow! Are you for real? That’s super cool! I’ve never heard of that kind of thing!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other one tuts to hide his bewilderment. Perhaps Asta’s hearing is broken—he’d mentioned the amount of pain destroying a devil’s horn causes. He crosses his arms and glares. “Why are you being so friendly to me, huh? I could suck your soul out and take your body right now. You should run from me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta loses the stars in his eyes immediately. “What! That’s so freaky, aniki! Why would you say that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t call me aniki!” the other one shrewdly screams. “I’m not your brother! I’m a big scary devil!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta is terrified, but it’s at its minimum. He only laughs nervously. “W-well, that’s true! But…if I’m right, which I’m probably not…devils are always trying to get what they want, right? You definitely would’ve killed me by now if you wanted to…which is super scary, so please don’t do that.” He squeezes his eyes shut and presses his hands together in plea. “Pretty please, aniki! Spare me!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For the umpteenth time in this short conversation, the other one tuts. He doesn’t say anything, though, and averts his gaze into the void.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta peeks, and when he sees the expression his doppelgänger has on, he smiles. “Thanks!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh? What the hell are you thanking me for?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not killing me, duh! I don’t even know where I am right now, but this is obviously your home.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up, you idiot. It’s definitely not my home. This is a grimoire!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What? A grimoire!” Asta is practically shouting every word he speaks at this point, a galaxy sparkling in his eyes. “That’s so awesome! How did I even get in here?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other one glares at the unnecessary consistence in volume, feeling an eye twitch with concealed stress as he tries to keep himself composed. They are a spitting image of that woman. He, despite his dark and malicious nature, doesn’t have the heart to strike down her son just yet. “You don’t know?” he grumbles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I have absolutely no clue what’s going on!” Asta proclaims. He juts a finger in the other one’s direction. “All I know is that we’re the only things in here!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Keep your tone down! You’re gonna blast my ear drums.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh—my greatest apologies!” Asta is still shouting, though. It earns another glare.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What did you do last? Before you got here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I fell asleep after having a long night,” Asta explains. His tone never changes, but his volume, thankfully, does. “I’m dreaming, right? You’re just a figment of my imagination.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’m real,” the other one insists. He narrows his eyes carefully and crosses his arms. “I’m sure you’ll have a better understanding of where we are and who I am in a few years.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta finally doesn’t reply. He’s staring.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is this…my grimoire? Are we in my grimoire?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The other one raises an eyebrow. “What has you figuring that?” he asks. “Grimoires contain the right type of mana for each user, and they choose whoever they want when the time is right. You’re still a little wet-behind-the-ears brat.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta blinks a few times in thought, trying to understand what the devil is saying. He doesn’t voice his confusion. “I…I got told I don’t have any magic, though,” he points out. “Could you even get a grimoire when you have no magic?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The devil feels his shock lay down on him slowly. It completely covers his heart and mind within seconds of realization, heavy and suffocating but very, very real. “You…you have no magic…?” he stutters.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta pouts a little. “Yeah…or so I was told,” he replies. “It explains a lot, though. People can turn around when magic is being used behind their back, but…I just never notice it. I’ve tried to do magic so many times, too, but nothing ever comes out of it. Being told I have none isn’t surprising, now that I think about it…but I didn’t think it would be a reality—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His monologue is cut off when the other one grabs his shoulders. Those devilish red eyes are beady and wide, and his jaw can never seem to stay hinged. “I have no magic, either!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Asta’s eyes widen, as well. “You, too? There’s no way we’re not brothers, then!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up, we’re not brothers! But this is…this is perfect,” the devil says. “That means that this grimoire will definitely be yours!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite the fact that he’s facing a devil, Asta feels…safe. He doesn’t feel an ounce of scorn, nor does he feel terrified of such a supernatural presence having something in common with him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re both defective voids, and meant to be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s no way his anti-magic grimoire wouldn’t fall into Asta’s hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That is totally awesome!” Asta screams.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I told you to keep your ridiculous volume down!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh? You’re yelling as well!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">(It has to work out. Otherwise…how else will he prove his word to Yuno?)</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ive always imaged the other one as someone abrasive due to the way they express and experience emotions. asta is the same in my perception, only he isnt abrasive, he’s honest and loud</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. to be at sea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>the entire time i was writing this chapter, i kept coming back to this story and wondering,,,, hm,,,,,,,,,, what could i possibly be missing,,,,,,,,,,,</p><p>and then i realized that its a smarter!asta tag 🤧</p><p>in all of my experience lacking verbal communication does need a degree of observation and perception when sign language or morse code arent tools. learning what to do with observation leads to intellectual growth</p><p>anyways, i personally love this chapter ^.^</p><p>so as always, enjoy &lt;3</p><p>wc: 9.3k</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>to be at sea</b>—(proverb) <em>the concept of being lost, directionless, and powerless in any given situation; william refuses to be at sea, and refuses to let anyone else be stranded out there as well.</em></p>
</blockquote><hr/><p>Mereoleona has an unruly awakening.</p><p>Something dark and disturbing is tickling her sixth sense, screaming horrible yet uninterpreted deeds that leaves a pit in her body. The moment her eyes flutter open, and she realizes that her sixth sense is on end, her heart sinks and her lungs choke up. She quickly sits up, losing all drowsiness as soon as she’s upright.</p><p>This feeling is incredibly ominous. Where the hell is it coming from, though?</p><p>It’s blanketing all of her surroundings.</p><p>She hurries herself out of bed, grabbing her shoes without a second thought of her other clothes or belongings. Her shirt, pants, and shoes—that’s it. She stumbles as she walks and slips on her footwear, practically swinging the door open as she fails at her rushed multitasking. She lets out a struggled gasp, though, when the ominous feeling lashes out at her with the door swing. Like the flood gates have opened, malice encompasses her entire body and suffocates the natural mana in the room. No…it’s <em>killing</em> the natural mana.</p><p>Mereoleona takes a deep breath and steps forward far enough to peek out into the hallway. At one end is nothing but a wall, and a candle. At the other end is the open entrance to the main room of the church. However, it’s where this evil is coming from.</p><p>It doesn’t make sense that the mute boy is the origin point, though. Not an ounce of mana. Not a speck of hatred. Not a presence to detect. His unfortunate silence reinforces his absent mana. He’s invisible to everything but the natural five senses.</p><p>His smile snaps her out of whatever trance the evil had put her in. But with the smile arrives a calmness that dissipates the omens. Her unease melts, dissolving into liquid like candle wax, with it. What the hell just happened?</p><p>“Kid, did you feel anything weird just now?” she asks. “Like something heavy and evil.”</p><p>He gives her a questioning look before shaking his head.</p><p>“I see. Alright, then. Sorry to bother you, get back to whatever you were doing.”</p><p>The mute boy opens his mouth once again as if to say anything that he could to catch her attention, but nothing comes out. He reaches out a hand, signaling that he needs to keep a conversation going about whatever.</p><p>“What? Do you need something?” The mute boy nods, and that gains an admittedly shaky sigh from Mereoleona. Luckily, he’s far away enough to not hear her falter. “Fine. What is it?”</p><p>He stars dumbly for a moment before he begins to motion the act of chopping.</p><p>“Need an extra hand for labor, yeah? Fine. Just let me get dressed first.”</p><p>He gives Mereoleona a cheesy grin and a thumbs up, but she doesn’t bother to say anything to that. She’s already turning away and walking back into her borrowed room. It’s very obviously Lily’s room, prepared out of kindness for being Yuno’s unexpected savior—or whatever glorified bullshit they’re thinking of. She can’t stand to even begin wondering about it, the concept of helping and being rewarded is absurd anyways.</p><p>The physical unease is gone when she is dressed, and so is the mute boy. Emotionally, however, it’s a different story. There is an uncharacteristically large amount of unrest that’s stuck to her chest, like a bunch of tiny splinters imbedded in her skin. The suddenness of that malicious appearance…it shook her to the core. She’s never felt so destabilized before.</p><p>Mereoleona can only assume that the mute boy is outside helping out now. She is alone in the church to recollect, but not for long. She’s needed.</p><p>Stepping outside, she finds that the day is clear and bright but cold and wet. In the shadows remains dusts of frost, along with a slight of snow from a few days ago. In the sunlight drips melting ice and morning dew droplets. There isn’t a cloud to be seen for many miles. Clear days, while nice, are the harshest in winter seasons. No wonder this foster home is working so hard.</p><p>“Ms Mereoleona! You’re awake,” Lily says. She has a basket of laundry at one hip and a sack of food at the other. “I’m just preparing our in-home food stock. Asta went into the village to buy some more tatoes, and Yuno is chopping fire wood. Do you think…you could do me a favor? I understand if—“</p><p>Mereoleona interrupts her quickly. “Sure. What is it?”</p><p>“Well…our blankets are always very bad at keeping the heat in. I was wondering if you could go to the next town over and get an animal skin blanket for the boys. I’ll give you the money for it, of course, but we need it before the next snow hits. Sooner, rather than later,” she states. She shifts around the chores in her arms for a moment. “Here, let me finish this up…”</p><p>“I have the money to buy what you need for the winter,” she points out. “I’m financially comfortable enough to handle the cost. I simply need a direction and a town name.”</p><p>Lily stares at Mereoleona as if she is godsend, but she snaps out of it quickly enough to continue the conversation without making it awkward. “Wonderful!”</p><p>Mereoleona receives what she needs from Lily, and departs within minutes. She uses the natural mana around her to hop up into the sky and gain the momentum that’s needed for a broom-less flight. She smiles slightly when she hears Yuno’s amazement behind her back.</p><p>As expected, though, the wind is freezing enough to make her nose numb within minutes. The next town over is in the double digits regarding distance, and Mereoleona isn’t bothered by it, but knowing so she can understand why it’s hazardous for Lily to go herself. Leaving two kids like Asta and Yuno alone for a few days, with a slim chance of never returning to top it off, is the last-most resort to possibly take.</p><p>It’s midday when she arrives, entirely frosted over and shivering, but alive enough to light herself up with fire creation magic. It envelops her whole body, melting or dissolving away anything wet and iced. She walks into town dry and unbothered. The marketplace is clear from where she enters—it’s small, open, and full of street vendors, but it’s also grand enough to be considered impressive for a Forsaken Realm’s village. From here, though, she can see that there’s a small crowd surrounding one specific stall.</p><p>Mereoleona feels like it’s safe to assume that the stall people are huddling around has the animal skin that the boys in Hage need just as much as the current shoppers for a comfortable winter rest.</p><p>Respectfully, or at least she hopes it’s not disrespectful, Mereoleona pushes through the crowd. There are a multitude of animal skins still. Many are the same, but she doesn’t know her normal animals well enough to name them by heart. The worker is busy confirming some purchases, so without much thought she begins browsing. Within minutes, she finds three orangish animal furs that are big enough to cover at least half a person, and thick enough to capture heat. They’re heavy, but bearably so. Taking these back with her won’t be a problem.</p><p>“Miss! You’re stealing! What are you doing?” a man shouts.</p><p>Almost immediately, people clear from her proximity. Originally, Mereoleona had figured the man’s accusatory statements are pointed to some other Miss. Apparently, though, she’d been wrong to assume that. She is Miss.</p><p>Mereoleona turns around a glare. The man is frail and battered, indefinitely a peasant by the feel of his mana, and has a dinky finger pointed directly at her. “I’m just holding animal skins,” she states. She can feel her eyebrow twitching as she tries to keep her composure. What idiot accuses a person of her stature in the middle of a marketplace? Maybe they don’t recognize her; it’s a fair assumption to make, the Vermillions aren’t seen out in the Forsaken Realm very often. “I’m going to buy all three. With <em>money</em>.”</p><p>“Then explain the <em>fourth</em> skin at your feet!” he exclaims.</p><p>When she looks down, there’s a small, dark brown animal skin next to her foot.</p><p>Ah. A set up. Her recognizable but unknown stature is why he’s targeting her. There’s probably a toll for stealing in this town. She tuts. “I don’t drop things,” she snaps, teetering away from a cool demeanor. “Are you sure it wasn’t you, though? You’re a stick figure. I wouldn’t be surprised if you were too embarrassed to admit that you dropped it. It’s easy to blame a woman for it, isn’t it? Since you’re a man and all.”</p><p>He finally returns a glare. Apparently, he doesn’t know a remarkable person when they’re presented right to his face. “Don’t accuse me back!” he cries. “I bet you’re just another sleazy nobleman’s wife, thinking you can take anything you want from the Forsaken Realm!”</p><p>The words <em>sleazy nobleman’s wife</em> bounces between her ears for a dangerously long moment. It’s at the end of that moment that she decides she is going to clobber this peasant for calling her a <em>wife</em>. “What did you just call me!” she shouts, carelessly interrupting her accuser mid-sentence. “Did you just call me a sleazy nobleman’s <em>wife</em>?”</p><p>The man begins to look nervous, finally realizing what kind of person his target really is. “I-I did. So? What of it? It’s probably true!”</p><p>“Shut your mouth!” she yells. “Say it again, I <em>dare</em> you!”</p><p>He doesn’t say anything to that. He shamelessly continues his scam, though. “Causing a scene to distract your misconduct? That’s so petty—“</p><p>Without giving any warning to victim and witness, Mereoleona kicks the man squarely at the top of his stomach. It’s the golden spot to make just about anyone to lose their breath and selectively even choke on their own lungs. He’s launched off his feet with a loud, struggling yelp of shock, and crashes into a group of shoppers that’d been directly behind him.</p><p>“Don’t give me your bullshit!” she shouts. She makes it clear to the people that she isn’t to be messed with, though it doesn’t matter if she actually does leave a lasting impression. She doesn’t foresee a return for a long time, if ever. “Accuse me again, you skinny shrimp! See where it takes you!”</p><p>The man is heaving and trying as hard as possible to breathe the entire time she’s threatening him.</p><p>“That’s what I thought,” she says. She turns back around to the stall, and points an intimidating glance to the shopkeeper. “How much?”</p><p>“Huh?”</p><p>“How much for these three animal skins, moron!”</p><p>“That’d be…twenty-five thousand, six hundred fifty-two yuls.”</p><p>Well, of course it’s ridiculously expensive. Mereoleona tuts in annoyance. “Nearly twenty-six thousand?” she grumbles. “That’s expensive.”</p><p>“U-uh…yes…” He sounds scared and hesitant, but she doesn’t push it any further than she has to. Time is being wasted here.</p><p>She tosses one of her bigger bags into his hands. The shopkeeper barely catches it, in total awe of the weight and amount. “Use the change to pay for everyone else’s skins,” she snaps. “Good day to you.”</p><p>The crowd had grown considerably during the whole exchange. She feels their eyes on her back as she walks away, but she doesn’t bother to spare them a single glance. Bystanders are annoying and don’t deserve acknowledgement.</p><p>“Oh<em>o</em>! Is that Mereoleona Vermillion I see? And in this dainty little village of all places!”</p><p>She stops walking as soon as she hears her name. The voice isn’t recognizable, but when she averts her gaze to the gruff origin of the voice, she knows who it is. “I can say the same to you, foreigner. What brings you to this dainty town?”</p><p>Yami Sukehiro steps out of the pathway’s sidelines, shamelessly joining her side with a slight grin. As always, he’s smoking a cigarette and wearing informal, tattered clothing. It’s fitting for a foreigner. “Never mind that,” he says. “That’s a talk for a more isolated place. You attracted a lot of unnecessary attention, you know.”</p><p>Mereoleona tuts. “It’s not my fault,” she snaps. “He picked the fight.”</p><p>“Yeah, yeah, whatever. I don’t care. Are you here for the same reason as me, though, that’s what I wanna know.”</p><p>She shows off the three animal skins. “I highly doubt it,” she says. “I’m returning from my wonderful mana region endeavors. Taking a few detours, though.”</p><p>“Ye’h, I noticed,” he mutters dryly. “Anyways, if you’re going back home, let’s walk and talk for a bit. I know you’re not a knight or anything, but I feel confident that you’ll know what I’m talking about.”</p><p>Yami begins to walk away, heading straight for the exit of the village. It’s in the direction of Hage anyways, so Mereoleona follows without much thought. He gives her a glance out of the corner of his eye that makes her glare back. Yami only smiles nervously, and doesn’t bother to voice whatever is on his mind.</p><p>When they’re finally far enough outside of the village, not a soul to matter in earshot, Mereoleona finally speaks up. “So? What did you want to talk about?”</p><p>Yami blows a chilly cloud of tobacco, tapping his cigarette for a brief moment. “Surely you felt it this morning,” he says pointedly.</p><p>As she figured. That feeling hadn’t been subtle in the least bit. Just how powerful was that malice? And how was <em>Asta</em> the origin?</p><p>“Did you feel it?”</p><p>“Huh? Oh, hell yeah, I did. Felt like my ears and heart were gonna explode from the pressure,” she replies, her tone short with ire. “Who didn’t feel it? Shit was crazy.”</p><p>“We had a captain’s meeting earlier this morning. Everyone in the room felt it,” Yami says. “It was very weak, but none of us missed it. It still didn’t wake up Dorothy, though.”</p><p>Mereoleona couldn’t put a name to a face, but she’s sure that this Dorothy is as interesting as the next captain. Something off-topic clicks, though. “Wait, <em>you</em>? At a captain meeting? What the hell is that about?” she asks. “I’ve been gone for ten years, Yami, you need to fill me in.”</p><p>He grins and lets out a bust of laughter. “You’re such a caveman!” he says. “Julius promoted me to be a captain, and let me create my own squad.” He pulls at a black, quarter-cut shoulder cloak. There’s a bull-like symbol outlined in a yellow that’s between amber and beige. “I’m captain of the Black Bulls now.”</p><p>“Congratulations,” she says, although she hasn’t a clue about the Black Bulls squad. And, apparently, Julius is the Wizard King now. “Knowing you, I’m sure it’s full of ruffians.”</p><p>He laughs again. “It sure is! I think you’d like it there.”</p><p>“I’m not joining.”</p><p>“Oh, come on Mereoleona! Being a Magic Knight ain’t so bad.”</p><p>“No, it’s a waste of time,” she insists. “Now tell me more about your morning.”</p><p>“Ha! So straightforward and boring,” he remarks. “Well, anyways, Julius found it concerning and sent a few of us around. As far as I know, Fuegoleon and Nozel are in the Noble Realm, Jack and Charlotte are in the Common Realm, and I’m here with William in the Forsaken Realm.”</p><p>Only Fuegoleon and Nozel ring bells in her head. Everyone else is a new name. They likely climbed the ranks in the years that she’s been gone. “What, you’re expected to search the whole of the Forsaken Realm with only one other person?”</p><p>“Uh…yes? Not everyone was available, y’know.”</p><p>“Hm. And how is this whole thing relevant to me?”</p><p>“I wanted to ask you to keep an eye out for anything like…like that feeling,” Yami states. “You’re the only person I know of that has the outskirts of the Forsaken Realm imprinted in your head. I wouldn’t doubt it if that thing came from some magic region you’ve claimed or whatever.”</p><p>Mereoleona stops walking. Should she tell them?</p><p>He stops, too. “What? Your toes freezing off or somethin’?” he asks mirthfully.</p><p>She tuts. “No.”</p><p>“Yeesh, okay.”</p><p>“Is that all?” she asks.</p><p>“You look like you know something,” Yami says as he turns and faces her. “You’re nervous. Why? Did you see it?”</p><p>“Oh, how preceptive of you,” she glowers. She prides herself on being good at a keeping a poker face, but the use of Ki is a whole new thing to hide from. “Yami.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“It’s a kid,” she says.</p><p>He cocks an eyebrow. “A…kid,” he repeats slowly. “Okay? Explain.”</p><p>“That evil feeling came from a kid,” she says. He looks confused and bewildered, but never gets to voice his question. “I was in its face, and its potential is terrifying. <em>I</em>, of all people, was left shaken.”</p><p>Yami blinks, meticulous and slow in his thought process. After a moment of thoughts and silence, he blanches. “That bad, huh?”</p><p>“No,” she states sharply. “I was just completely caught off guard by its appearance.”</p><p>“What, do you know this kid?”</p><p>“What if I do, huh?”</p><p>“Well, theoretically, say that you do know this kid. I would have to demand intel since this morning’s events concerned Julius,” Yami explains. He takes a lasting drag of the cigarette and throws it to the ground when he’s done. “He doesn’t want such an unknown roaming the kingdom without any eyes.”</p><p>“So he sends his strongest out to find it? How insulting,” she snaps.</p><p>“High-level mages felt it. Everyone else had a stupidly normal morning,” he points out. He pulls out another cigarette and his lighter, beginning another smoke. “Mereoleona. Don’t be tryna keep us in the dark on this. Are you absolutely sure and full of certainty that it’s safe to just leave it?”</p><p>“Yes,” she says. The quickness of her response surprises Yami. “I’ll be back in the capitol soon enough. You can tell Julius that I have an eye on the situation.”</p><p>Yami cocks an eyebrow at that. “<em>Really</em>, now? <em>You’re</em> gonna keep <em>your</em> eye on a <em>kid</em>?” Very obviously, he doesn’t believe a word she’d said.</p><p>“Yes,” Mereoleona says again. “Is that all, Yami? I’m going to leave, now.”</p><p>“Why are you so protective of it?” he asks, though to no avail does it get answered.</p><p>“Goodbye, Yami.” Completely ignoring his question, she leaps into the air off beds of natural mana, and takes flight when she gains all the momentum she needs.</p><p>Yami doesn’t pursue her. He knows when he’s poking at a sleeping lioness. He sighs, exasperated by Mereoleona’s life choices in general as he turns to walk away. When he thinks about it, her bigger decisions are rather sporadic and seemingly random compared to the average person. They show no consistent pattern for something like a longterm goal. “Hn. What a woman,” he mumbles to himself. “I suppose Julius will be okay enough with it, though…”</p><p>Despite his thoughts on her choices in general, Yami trusts Mereoleona’s judgement enough to just leave it for now. Therefore, by extension, Julius can relax.</p><p>It’ll be fine.</p><hr/><p>The first thing Asta does after meeting a freshly awakened Mereoleona and stepping outside is take a deep breath of cold, fresh air. It stings. His lungs hurt a little extra today, and he cringes as the chill digs its sickles into his aching throat. He manages to keep the upcoming coughs in his chest.</p><p>“Good morning.”</p><p>It’s Yuno. Asta turns his head to face him and displays a bright smile for a greeting.</p><p>“Did you have a good dream last night? You were smiling in your sleep,” Yuno comments.</p><p>Asta tilts his head as he tries to remember his dream, but all he can recall is an emptiness and petting some horns. They’re both fleeting images and feelings in his head, each pocketing themselves for later but he can’t say that those things meant a good dream. Yuno is waiting for a response, though, so he just nods.</p><p>“That’s wonderful,” he says. When Asta studies his foster brother a little bit more, he can see that the claw marks of exhaustion has deepened the creases under his eyes. “I’m okay, by the way. It’s written all over your face. I know you’re worried.”</p><p>Asta reaches out and pinches Yuno’s cheeks. He stretches them out, gaining protests and outcries but he blatantly ignores it. He finally lets go of his cheeks, but he doesn’t completely remove his fingers. He mercilessly buries them into Yuno’s skin and pushes upwards to spoof a smile.</p><p>“Jeez…all of that for something this simple?” Yuno grumbles. He pushes Asta’s hands away with a glare. “Are you telling me to smile?”</p><p>Asta moves his head and hand in a synchronized gesture that conveys a so-so answer.</p><p>“Are you telling me to smile through all of…<em>this</em>?” Yuno asks. His face falls a little bit and his overall demeanor changes dramatically. When Asta nods, he sighs. “Fine. I’ll try. No guarantees, though, your stupid pinching broke my face.”</p><p>Asta can only grin sheepishly. It’s big enough to make his eyes close, but in the moments that he can only see darkness he finds that he’s in that familiar emptiness facing a demonic doppelgänger. When he opens his eyes again, it’s all gone.</p><p>There’s only Yuno.</p><p>“Oh, good! Boys, you’re both awake,” Sister Lily interjects. She has a basket of dirty laundry in between her hip and her hand. “Asta, I know you just woke up, but do you think you could go into town and buy a few sacks of tatoes? We really need to build up a in-house stock, so I’m relying on you to get it done before sundown, okay?”</p><p>He gives her a determined nod, holding his hands out to receive enough yuls for at least three sacks of tatoes. He couldn’t help but wonder where this money is coming from; he’s sure that it’s fine enough for now. Having a stable food supply is important. So, without any concern, he takes his leave of the church. He passes the farmers and waves at each one that notices him, though none of them expect a single word from him.</p><p>They know his story by now. The village is small, and, as it goes for small villages, news travels fast. Father Orsi scrambling through the town in a frenzy to start his journey on finding a doctor hadn’t been quiet in the least bit. As he thinks back on their knowledge, he learns that the walk to town isn’t long at all. It happens in the blink of an eye, and he arrives to the biggest street of Hage—specifically, it’s the market street where all the shops and street vendors have established their presences. When he approaches the street vendor he always goes to, he waves his greetings and grins.</p><p>“Yo, Asta! How you doin’, huh? Gettin’ any gooder?” the vendor, Tophney, says.</p><p>Asta nods.</p><p>“Still cay’n’t talk, eh? ‘Das alright!” Tophney states. “So, whatcha need? Tatoes! <em>Ha</em>! It’s a trick question, gotcha good!”</p><p>Tophney lets out a loud bust of laughter that earns a few extra glances from passing pedestrians. Asta lets out a big, joyous smile.</p><p>“Sacks? Barrels? Singles? Oh, wait! You can’t say. Hm…” Tophney rubs his chin deep in thought before he brightens up with an idea. “I know, kid! Tell me with your fingers. One is a sack, two is a barrel, and three is a single. Which is it?”</p><p>Asta puts a single pointer finger up.</p><p>“Ahh, stockin’ up are ya’? I’m sure yer gonna bathe in tatoes these next few months, eh?” Tophney slaps his makeshift counter as he laughs at his own joke. “Al’ight, kid, how many sacks? One? Two?”</p><p>He holds up three fingers this time.</p><p>“Three? Wow! That’s quite’alot, init?” he says gruffly. “That nun must be worried ‘bout tha winter forecast!”</p><p>Asta can only shrug. He’s just an errand boy today.</p><p>“Yu’ll needa take them sacks in trips, kiddo. I can’t spare any ‘ands so yer on yer own, ‘kay? That’ll be ‘bout thirty yuls.”</p><p>Asta can only feel a bit surprised. He knows the price of three sacks. Usually, it’s set closer to sixty or seventy.</p><p>Tophney smiles warmly and ruffles Asta’s hair. “Oh, don’t give me that look,” he says. His voice is still rough, but his tone is much more kind. “I know yur family is goin’ through a tough time. I’d gladly beat t’at bastard thief into the ground ‘f I could! I ‘n handle t’eh discount this time.”</p><p>Asta can feel his eyes watering up as he hands over the yuls. Tophney is definitely a rough guy weathered by poverty and farm work, but he’s a kind-hearted man at the end of the day.</p><p>“Now go uh’long! Sister Lily is waiting for the tato delivery,” he blunders.</p><p>Asta blinks away the tears and gives a mock salute. Tophney hands over the first sack of tatoes. Asta cradles it like a baby, finding the weight to be familiar and bearable. He lends the tato vendor a fleeting smile before turning away and trotting back down the street towards the church. Lily and Yuno aren’t in sight when he returns from his first trip, and Mereoleona isn’t inside. After a little bit of curious exploring and careful listening, he can only guess that Mereoleona has left the village entirely, because where else would she be, Lily is preparing the perimeter of the church for a harsher winter, and Yuno is chopping oakwood with precise slices of wind.</p><p>Asta knows not to bother them. He has his own job anyways.</p><p>He runs out of the church, keeping his pace at a jog. Something in the sky catches his attention, though.</p><p>It’s a bird. It’s a pretty cool looking bird, too, and his eyes are glued to it for an excessively longtime. He isn’t looking forward. Without any warning, he crashes into someone. It’s an adult, which is painfully obvious given the size difference. Asta lets out a breath of surprise upon impact, and lands hard on his butt. He could only conclude from this initial encounter that this isn’t an adult, it’s a stone wall wearing clothes. He quickly holds in a deep breath of air to avoid hyperventilating with his injured throat, because he knows that this type of landing will leave him achy and raspy for the rest of the day. His eyes are watering up like overflowing rain buckets, but he’s thankful for his quick action. He knows that he would be gasping and causing himself unnecessary pain if he weren’t holding his breath right now.</p><p>Through his watered vision, an interesting-looking man kneels in front of him. “Are you okay?” he asks, his voice full of concern and kindness. “That was a hard fall.”</p><p>Asta continues to hold his breath as he nods. He keeps the air in his chest until his lungs feel like bursting, and then he carefully lets it all out through his nose. He meticulously pants, taking in easy and reasonable breaths. Naturally, the cold stings, but he pushes through. All that’s left in his throat is a rough ache.</p><p>“I see you have some injuries,” the stranger comments when his breath is noticeably even. “You shouldn’t be running around like this. You’ll only get yourself more hurt.”</p><p>Asta knows that he would have retorted a snarky response if he had his voice. He wipes the water from his eyes to finally clear his vision, and the stone wall of a man meets his eyes. Most noticeably, they’re…<em>purple</em>. Asta feels his face of pain melt into wonder and awe. He’s never seen purple eyes before. Most people out here in the village have rather earthly eyes—brown, hazel, blue, green, black. He’s never seen purple before.</p><p>Of course, the man’s whole outfit is a thing of wonder and awe. He’s very obviously a person of grand stature, but the grimoire at his hip tells Asta that he’s a Magic Knight.</p><p>The man smiles, clearly amused by the expression. “Is it the helmet?” he asks.</p><p>Asta closes the unhinged jaw he’d never realized dropped, and shakes his head. He points to his own green eyes, still locked in a gaze with the stranger.</p><p>“My eyes?” At that, Asta nods. “I see. I suppose a purple eye color isn’t very common out here. Do you like them?”</p><p>Asta nods again.</p><p>“You have an impressive eye color yourself, too,” the man says. “They’re very green.”</p><p>He smiles sheepishly. His eyes have never been complimented before, and whether or notit’d been out of a sense of savvy social intelligence doesn’t matter to him. This man is being very indulgent despite his lack of voice.</p><p>“You didn’t answer my question earlier,” he points out. “Are you okay?”</p><p>Asta simply nods. The pain of the fall is subsiding easily enough for the most part, though going by the feel of his throat tonight will be tough to get through.</p><p>He holds out a hand for Asta to grab. “I apologize for not moving out of the way,” he says. “You were obviously in a hurry.”</p><p>Asta shakes his head, taking the hand and standing up. He watches as a subtle reaction flickers in those purple eyes, but it’s gone too fast to be analyzed.</p><p>“Are you…unable to speak?” he asks, hesitant and careful with his questioning.</p><p>Asta doesn’t really understand the pause that’s taken. He doesn’t care who knows about his wound…although…well, thinking about it always sucks. Sometimes he wishes Yuno stuck by his side constantly. He has a way with words; general interaction with people has never been a big problem for Yuno. On the other hand, Asta can’t detect smaller details without putting forth an exhaustive amount of intellectual energy for observation.</p><p>He supposes that will have to change with his injury.</p><p>Asta, despite all of his thinking, nods. He begins to raise a single hand, pressing his fingers together to mimic the jabbing motion that had left him choking and rasping. He reaches upwards to the point of being on the tips of his toes and gently pushes against the middle of the stranger’s throat. After that is acted out, he begins to mock choke with both hands at the base of his neck.</p><p>The stranger takes a moment to process what’s going on before his face morphs from attentive and kind to solemn and…upset. “Someone did that to you?”</p><p>Asta nods, putting his hands on his hips.</p><p>“I see. That is…that is most unfortunate,” he says sympathetically. “Have they been apprehended?”</p><p>The question makes him realize that whether or not that thief has actually been caught is something he definitely doesn’t know about. After…after, Asta can only remember choking out some last words about being able to become something bigger despite the near-caste system the Clover Kingdom’s society is all about. But then it’s just a blur of pain and cold. So, with that in mind, he shrugs.</p><p>“I see.” He’s nearly murmuring, watching Asta for a few moments before turning his face away. His solemn and upset demeanor is gone in a flash, and his amethyst eyes light up as he spots something on the ground. “Let me introduce myself. My name is William Vangeance.”</p><p>Asta opens his mouth as if to speak, but he gestures to his throat. He can’t say anything.</p><p>William smiles and picks up a pebble with enough of an edge to cut through the packed dirt of Hage’s main pathway. “Write your name in the dirt as best you can.”</p><p>Asta takes the pebble with stars in his eyes, enamored by the great idea, and immediately kneels down to write. He isn’t well-practiced, but he does know how to write his own name.</p><p>“Asta?”</p><p>He nods proudly, and pockets the pebble as he stands.</p><p>William’s remaining smile grows as he speaks. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Asta. What has you running around today?”</p><p>He holds up a hand as if a loaf of bread is in it and takes a bite. He’s trying his best to say food.</p><p>“I see,” William says. “Stocking up for the winter, I’m assuming.” Asta nods. “Well, don’t let me stop you. The sooner the better, right?”</p><p>Asta grins again, his cheeks rising high enough to shut his eyes. In the brief moment of darkness, he sees his demonic doppelgänger again. The image is dark, and it flickers in his mind, but when he opens his eyes it becomes a fleeting silhouette. A voice whispers in his head, though, saying, <em>ditch this man and run—forget human decency, forget the church, the stupid tatoes, your half-baked family, just get away get out a man of William’s stature is nothing good for us, please Asta get us away.</em></p><p>Asta can only wonder why these thoughts pester him, and that’s when the voice is shut out of his head.</p><p>“What’s wrong?” William asks. “You’ve been staring for a bit. Do you have a question?”</p><p>Right then and there, Asta makes a decision. He reaches out and grabs William’s hand, gently tugging as he steps past him.</p><p>At the notion of being asked to tagalong, the supposed Magic Knight gives him a look of surprise and curiosity. “You want me to come with you?”</p><p>Asta smiles and nods, keeping their eyes locked and patiently waiting. That same flicker of responsive emotion crosses William’s eyes, as fast as a bee’s wing, and that’s when Asta knows that it’s his touch causing such a noticeable reaction.</p><p>“Alright,” he says. “I can’t be following you around for too long, though. I do need to be home before nightfall.”</p><p>Asta doesn’t respond. He simply begins to pull William along, silently hand-in-hand, returning any kind gesture to passing villagers. Tophney’s eye is caught when they’re a good distance away from his stall, but even from afar Asta can see that he’s flustered to see William.</p><p>“Asta! What in t’eh hell are ya doing wit’ William Vangeance!” Tophney wails. “How did ya even find him!”</p><p>Asta grins cheekily as he continues to walk towards the street vendor.</p><p>“What a lively fellow,” William comments offhandedly.</p><p>When they’re both standing in front of the stall, Asta can clearly see that Tophney has stars in his eyes. Asta wonders out of curiosity who exactly William Vangeance is, but he knows he won’t be able to get an answer until someone else explains unprompted or asks with the mute boy around.</p><p>Asta waves a hand in front of Tophney’s line of sight, trying to break him out of the trance he managed to get himself into. However, his face remains unmoved by the waving. He huffs at being ignored. He prepares to start reaching for a touch, but William speaking up stops him.</p><p>“Excuse me, sir, but I believe Asta needs your assistance…” he states, hesitant about Tophney’s reaction but confident enough to say something about it.</p><p>“Oho! Sorry, Asta!” Tophney exclaims. He looks to the young boy in bewilderment. “I jus’ weren’t expectin’ to meet William Vangeance today of all days! ‘<em>Specially</em> with yous of all people!”</p><p>Asta nods in his agreement, although he hasn’t a clue about William’s reputation. He knows Tophney well enough to feel like it’s safe to assume that this man is known for good stuff. Like good Magic Knight stuff, if that’s even a thing.</p><p>“Ah! Ain’t no good lettin’ ya’lls stare at me,” Tophney finally says. “‘Ere ya go, boy. One more sack of tatoes.”</p><p>Asta takes it and smiles as thanks, only to promptly hand it over to William. William is a little surprised, that much is obvious, but he takes the sack of tatoes anyways.</p><p>Tophney loses all nonexistent composure as he watches this scene unfold before his eyes. “Asta!” he wails again. “William Vangeance ain’t yer slave!”</p><p>Immediately, Asta’s face flushes. He gives his new friend a panicked look, but William doesn’t make a sound of protest. He shakes his head and chuckles. “It’s alright, Asta. I don’t mind this,” he says. He looks to Tophney and smiles kindly. “Thank you for your concern, sir.”</p><p>It’s Tophney’s turn to wear a flustered face, but he quickly pushes it away. “Whatevah ya say, William Vangeance!” he proclaims. He’s quick to hand over the next sack of tatoes to Asta. “‘Ere ya go, wonder boy.”</p><p>He hasn’t the slightest what wonder boy could mean, so he takes the new name in stride and grins. It’s his own makeshift cue of farewell.</p><p>It takes only a scant moment for William to catch on. “Good day to you, sir,” he says with a respectful dip of his head. He doesn’t stick around for a response.</p><p>Tophney is, once again, flustered. “Y-yeh! Y-you too, William Vangeance!” he calls.</p><p>William looks down at Asta when they’re side-by-side. “He certainly has spirit,” he says. “Is he a friend of yours?”</p><p>Asta tilts his head a little in thought before shaking it. Tophney is friendly more than anything.</p><p>“He certainly has a passion for overbearing respect, that’s for sure,” William continues. “He reminds me of a wild boar.”</p><p>Asta would’ve let out a loud laugh if he could, but he knows it would sound deformed. Not to mention, his throat aches. It’s beginning to hurt with simple breaths. Instead, he shakes his shoulders in a mock show of laughter and a big smile.</p><p>“I don’t mean to sound rude, but that is laughter, isn’t it?”</p><p>Asta gives a cheery nod.</p><p>“I see.”</p><p>After that statement, their walk falls into silence. Asta is entirely bothered by it. He isn’t comfortable in the quiet, though being quiet is a concept he knows he has to get used to. It’s only been a few days, but so much has happened and thinking about it now leaves a pit in his stomach too deep to ignore.</p><p>“Are you alright?” William asks. “You seem to be bothered by something.”</p><p>Asta shakes his head and smiles.</p><p>“If you’re in pain, Asta, you shouldn’t push yourself,” he advises. “I know that breathing the cold air hurts.”</p><p>William is right to say the least. Asta knows he is. But he doesn’t want to be a burden to Lily and Yuno. Father Orsi still isn’t back, even though it’s been half a week, and Asta refuses to be useless in his absence.</p><p>William lets out a gentle sigh, shifting the sack of tatoes in his arms to gently pat the top of Asta’s head. “Being stubborn is one of the best traits anyone can have,” he begins with a tone of sensitive wisdom, “but it becomes toxic when it’s blatant refusal.”</p><p>Asta only has half an idea of what he could even begin to mean. He gives a pained look of confusion to William as he tries his best to perceive his words.</p><p>The helmeted stone wall chuckles and moves his hand away. “I mean that in the kindest way possible,” he states. “Sometimes it’s best to give in and let those who cherish you take care of your wounds and the things around you.”</p><p>With those extra words, Asta has a better understanding of what William is trying to say. When the realization hits, he looks down. His eyes water up from the overwhelming emotion that blooms in his chest. He feels gross and stuffy as William’s meaning gets absorbed. He knows that Yuno and Lily are conscious of their witless helplessness. The incident with Yuno yesterday night proves it to be true. He hates making them feel that way, because they genuinely don’t deserve it and being unable to change that makes him realize that he has an aptitude for weakness.</p><p>Asta stops walking. His throat is seizing up, tightening around the glass shards of pain inside. His lungs feel like they’re shriveling like dried grapes as he begins to struggle for air. His arms tighten around the sack of tatoes to brace for an intense bout of pain, but with that preparation in mind, how can he tell William to take him to Sister Lily as soon as possible?</p><p>William is perceptive, though. He rushes to Asta, grabbing a shoulder with his one available hand. “What’s wrong? Is your throat causing you pain?” he asks. His voice is full of alarm.</p><p>Asta manages to swallow painfully and nod, clenching his jaw.</p><p>William takes the two sacks of tatoes and sets them on the side of the dirt path. To Asta’s pained amazement, tree roots grow from the ground and protectively wrap around the sacks. “Where can I go to get you help?”</p><p>With both of his hands free, he raises two pointer fingers to form a religious cross.</p><p>“A church? Where is it?”</p><p>He points behind William’s back.</p><p>“I see,” he says. He turns around, maintaining his crouched position as he gestures for Asta. “Get on my back. I will carry you there.”</p><p>Asta wants to refuse. He really, really does. He isn’t ready to see the alarm on Lily and Yuno’s faces again, and he especially isn’t ready to accept that he’ll be the cause of desperation.</p><p>William glancing over his shoulder catches his attention. “Everything will be okay,” he says. “Let me help you.”</p><p>Asta hesitates. Staying locked in a gaze with the Magic Knight trying to vigorously help reminds him of those words—that being stubborn isn’t the best sometimes. With that in mind, he climbs onto William’s back and allows himself to be carried.</p><p>He presses his mouth against William’s cloak, using it to shield against the ice in the air that’s been destroying his throat since he stepped outside this morning. He’s slightly bouncing as William begins to jog, but he doesn’t pay it any mind. He can’t for the most part, he’s trying to moderate his breathing.</p><p><em>Asta</em>, the new voice whispers, <em>we can’t go on like this. Let me heal you.</em></p><p>Asta squeezes his eyes shut only to see that demonic doppelgänger once again. He doesn’t understand this image. It’s literally his face with inhumane features. Where has he seen this person before?</p><p>
  <em>…let me heal you let me heal you let me heal you let me heal you—</em>
</p><p>The whispering persists without showing any signs of stopping. He wonders who it is again, and that’s when the demonic face and voice completely go away. His eyes flutter open. William is graciously huffing and puffing as he runs, clouds of breath flowing with the wasp-like winter air. He can hear his own struggling breaths, wet and shallow in the back of his throat. He moved his tongue around to find the taste of blood, attempting to swallow without causing himself much trouble and failing epically.</p><p>Asta isn’t paying attention to his surroundings enough to realize that the church is within sight now. He’s too afraid of coughing blood onto William’s nice cloak.</p><p>“Asta! Oh, dear, what happened?” It’s Lily.</p><p>William isn’t even out of breath, Asta notices, and despite the turmoil his own body is putting itself through, he finds that to be extremely awesome. “This is where he can get help, yes?” he inquires. Asta raises his head, but he keeps his hand over his mouth. “He is having a hard time breathing. I rushed him over as fast as I could without worsening his condition.”</p><p>Lily rubs Asta’s back in comfort. “Thank you so much, sir,” she says. Despite her words, her voice is still full of worry.</p><p>As William lowers his body enough, Asta pulls himself off and just about stumbles to Lily’s side. She says something to the Magic Knight and pulls Asta inside.</p><p>On their way in, though, Asta stops walking. Emeralds touch amber, each pair shining in the late, winter morning sunlight. Yuno is standing a few feet away with wide, watery eyes and a tight expression. Asta pulls his hand off his face, touching his cheeks with his forefingers as his lips stretch into a smile. When he sees that notion, Yuno manages to grovel his way out of his gloominess just enough to lose his stiff expression.</p><p>It’s the last thing of the outside world that Asta sees before Lily hurries him into the backend of the church that he’s become far too familiar with these past few days.</p><hr/><p>In his ten good years of being a Magic Knight, with a tough upbringing and upstanding acts of service, William Vangeance finds it in himself to always remain grounded and humble at the end of the day.</p><p>He is young. Not the youngest, but still he’s young. In the past, he’s made certain to remain an esteemed and accomplished Knight. All meekness aside, William desires to be strong and revered in the eyes of all—but especially in the eyes of those he holds dear to his heart. Although despite, or mayhap in spite of, his wish to pleasure those he serves with an impressive Magic Knights Squad and a peace of mind, he has seen some ugly things about the Clover Kingdom he never thought he would see.</p><p>He believes that he can firmly say he has gained a certain amount of social intelligence and level of observation far superior to his peers from those types of domestic encounters.</p><p>Seeing children in turmoil is the absolute worst, but it’s in those situations that he is glad to have the level of surveying and aptness to be able to connect with struggling youth.</p><p>His very own childhood still undoubtedly haunts him to this day, and of course the abuse he’d been subjected to was horrible. To compare his trauma to others is harmful and immature, but sometimes William feels like his experiences are little to worry about when the stories of others reach his ears.</p><p>Today, an unique incident came crashing into him in a very gospel sense.</p><p>Before that happened, however, he’d been skimming over the villages of the Forsaken Realm for the unknown factor Julius worries about. Hage Village, William quickly learns, is full of nothing but bread, potatoes, corn and cabbage. The food is incredibly nostalgic, and he’s tempted to enjoy some of it, but he reminds himself of his task. Other than the nostalgic food, Hage’s most prominent characteristics are the nearby monuments of magical history—the grimoire tower, and the magnificently large skull. The village is borderline impoverished. Still yet the people make do with what they have just enough to survive, but it’s not what Julius is looking for. Therefore, it’s not what William is looking for.</p><p>That evil feeling had slammed everyone this morning. William can’t say that he has ever felt so intimidated before. Julius’ open concern planted seeds of determination in the Clover Captains. Finding out what the origin is has become a goal for those who got chosen, landing in the top ten most prioritized list. Yami’s skinny spatial magic user had been most useful in that very moment, and the next thing that William knows, he’s slammed by a child.</p><p>William hadn’t even noticed that someone was running in front of him. He’d heard footsteps, yes, but he figured the person would swerve around him. He’d been too deep in thought to consider a distracted child.</p><p>He’s still confused by Asta’s lacking presence; he needs to sort out his thoughts a bit more, but even now just standing in front of the church awaiting for late fortune, he doesn’t have a grasp of a reason yet. He figures it’s because his mind has yet to fully comprehend that evil could potentially be coming from such a sweet and young soul like Asta—but the details are too scant to be braided in such a way. The child is unique, that is undeniable in William’s eyes, but it doesn’t mean he’s the origin of such a grand evil.</p><p>Still…a lead is a lead, and he is a bloodhound.</p><p>He watches the duo’s heels get swallowed by the aged wooden doors. As soon as the nun and Asta have entered the church, he turns his face to the other boy.</p><p>Amber touches amethyst. William smiles gently as their gazes meet. He knows that look the boy wears all too well. “Hello,” he greets.</p><p>The dark-haired child stares, his demeanor becoming aloof and bland as he speaks. “Who are you?” he asks. Despite his earlier display of helplessness, guilt, and anxiety, he keeps his voice steady.</p><p>“My name is William Vangeance,” he replies. Right from the get-go, he can tell that this kid is guarded purely out of hardship and not the fact that he’s a stranger. “Who are you?”</p><p>“I’m…my name is Yuno,” he says begrudgingly. “I’ve never seen you around before. How’d you meet Asta?”</p><p>“We bumped into each other. Quite literally, too. Neither of us were paying attention while walking,” William explains. “He landed on his bum pretty hard. I could tell he was in a lot of pain…”</p><p>“Lemme guess,” Yuno says, unintentionally interrupting, “he made sure to try and convince you that he’s fine and can do anything he wants to.”</p><p>William tilts his head a little. That isn’t quite what Asta did, but he supposed it’s close enough…in a twisted way. “You seem to know him very well,” he states amiably. “Are you two close?”</p><p>“We’re brothers,” he explains. His tone is tight with stress, and his dislike of feeling that way shows as he crosses his arms. “I know we don’t lookalike, though.”</p><p>“That’s quite alright,” William points out. “That kind of relationship doesn’t need common physical traits to be real.”</p><p>Yuno cocks an eyebrow at those choice words before looking at the ground in contempt.</p><p>“How are you feeling? You seem very stressed.”</p><p>Quickly, Yuno turns his nose away. He makes it very clear that talking about his feelings is something not to be touched on.</p><p>The contrast to Asta’s own character is quite amusing. William couldn’t help but let out a warmhearted chuckle.</p><p>However, it immediately pulls Yuno’s attention in like a fish on a hook. He turns his face back to speak. “Why are you laughing? Nothing’s funny right now.”</p><p>William’s smile remains, even though Yuno’s anger is very real in his voice. “You and your brother’s personality compliment each other,” he explains. “I can tell that you’re a closed book, and you speak in a very straightforward way. It’s almost rude.”</p><p>Yuno tuts quietly, but he doesn’t disagree. “I’m just saying what’s on my mind,” he grumbles.</p><p>“Asta is a much more open book,” William continues. “I’ve only known him for a handful of minutes, but I’m confident he would’ve talked my ears off if he could.”</p><p>Yuno looks down again, his expression darkening and his face blanching. His color is closer a pasty white by now, though his nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold.</p><p>“Did I upset you?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“I see.” William’s eyes travel across the front yard of the church. It’s small, and very rundown by years and weather. It’s right then that he remembers something. Tatoes are on the side of the road. “I was out helping Asta deliver sacks of potatoes. I had to leave them on the side of the road, though.”</p><p>Yuno gives him a cheap glance. “Okay…?”</p><p>William turns away. “I’m going to retrieve them,” he states. “I will be back momentarily.”</p><p>The young boy blinks in surprise. “You’re going?” he asks.</p><p>“I am. Is that a problem?”</p><p>“N-no! I just…you look like a nobleman. I didn’t think you saw anything worth helping here…beyond Asta…” Yuno says. “I don’t like royalty.”</p><p>William’s smile grows wide enough to close his eyes. “I’m the bastard son of a noble,” he explains. “I completely understand your feelings and your living situation.”</p><p>Hearing that leaves Yuno a bit dazed with bewilderment. However, it’s not minded enough by William to stop him from walking away. “Um! Excuse me, William!” Yuno calls. “Th-thank you for helping my brother!”</p><p>“You’re welcome!” William calls back over his shoulder. Even as he turns his face forward again, his smile stays. He could tell that Yuno doesn’t thank people often. The stutter alone speaks volumes, but the way the words rolled off his tongue had been graceless. It seems more like a box rolling through his speech rather than a cylinder. It’s…amusing, to say the least.</p><p>Finally alone, he finds that the walk is quiet and cold in a rather lonely sense. The sun provides little to no warmth, and the ice in the air hurts everything it’s exposed to. Regardless of the weather, though, William’s smile stays.</p><p>It wilts away into a frown almost immediately when that same evil feeling from this morning makes an unforeseen and sudden comeback. The very first time William had felt it, his heart skipped a beat in surprise and he felt a pit form in his stomach out of pure dread. It’s initially the same this second time, though after a few passing moments it becomes a heavy metal blanket that bears physical consequences.</p><p>William lets out a distressed sound as he begins to realize the changes. His head feels pressured to the point of a split headache; it’s followed by a finely-tuned pressure that pops his ears and gropes his sinuses. His heart races with a flood of responsive adrenalin. His legs are buckling up. Blood rushes in his ears. His fingers get under his helmet as the ruthless headache continues to drives its iron nail into the top of his skull.</p><p>His entire body struggles to fathom the sudden and immense pressure this malicious evil is causing, and because of this, he begins to helplessly hyperventilate.</p><p>The moment his knee touches the ground, though, it disappears. The world around him is entirely unaffected. Pressure is replaced with relief, and the splitting dissipates into a simple temple ache. William takes a deep, panicked breath as he begins to recollect himself. His legs shake as his feet replant themselves.</p><p>With disturbed tranquility, he begins to concentrate on directing his breathing to control his lost composure.</p><p>It’s right at the end of his last controlled breath that a crackle of mana makes a well-known sound in his pocket. He pulls out his audio communication device with a listening ear.</p><p><em>“Oi, helmet boy! Did you just feel that?”</em> Yami asks.</p><p>“Y-yeah,” William stutters. His voice cracks and he quickly clears his throat.</p><p>Yami tuts. <em>“You sound shaken! It wasn’t </em>that<em> bad,”</em> he points out.</p><p>“You lack politeness as always,” William states. “You need better manners.”</p><p>
  <em>“Ack! So heartless.”</em>
</p><p>He lets out an uneasy chuckle and sighs one last time. “So? What did you feel?”</p><p>
  <em>“Huh?”</em>
</p><p>“Just now, Yami, what did you feel?”</p><p><em>“Uh…” </em>There is a moment of dumbfounded silence.<em> “…Well…I felt a pressure on my shoulders this time. Wasn’t that bad. Ain’t nothin’ else though! Just that stupid evil shit.”</em></p><p>“I see,” he replies. So William experienced the worst of it. That can only mean one thing. “You should come to Hage Village.”</p><p><em>“Okay…why?”</em> Yami sounds intrigued, as if he knows a little something more.</p><p>“I…I believe I can confidently say that I’ve found the origin of this evil,” William hesitantly explains, “…and his name is Asta.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>1yul is equal to about 1yen</p><p>my favorite thing about black clover is the fact that there are meanings to the names of each character. each meaning relates to a significant trait and it gives me happy butterflies knowing that its a thing</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. the greatest epithet</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>phewwwwww i cranked this one out, ngl</p>
<p>i couldn't rlly sleep so i ended up staying up all night. i think i wrote for about 8 hrs straight lmaoo</p>
<p>anyways, this chapter has me Excited, and im sure yall will understand by the end a/n!</p>
<p>so,without further ado, enjoy :)</p>
<p>wc: 9.7k</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong>the greatest epithet</strong>—(n.) <em>the name “asta”, in latin, means “star-like”; meanwhile, the name “liebe”, in germanic-based yiddish, means “loved one”. licita chose her sons’ names well.</em></p>
</blockquote><hr/>
<p>The moment Lily hands him a rag, he gasps and coughs into it. Pain, pain, pain. It hurts. It hurts so much.</p>
<p>Asta feels his chilled skin become clammy as the indoor warmth washes over him. He’s shivering from the cold and the heat clashing in his body, but his fits of coughing doesn’t care. They continue.</p>
<p>Lily is in distress, he can see that much even through his watery eyes. He feels guilty. He doesn’t regret for a moment jumping into save Yuno from a beating; what he does regret is not being able to heal. It’s stupid, he realizes this. He shouldn’t feel guilty for something so out of control, but Lily…she doesn’t deserve this burden.</p>
<p>Lily works fast, but not sloppily. She lays out some fresh bedding over a bench that she’d pulled in from the main church room days ago, fixing up a pillow from sheets. As she works, her grimoire rises and flickers through its pages. Asta lays on his back with the rag still pressed to his mouth as soon as she begins to gather water, gauze and cotton. It looks to be the last of the church’s supply, which strikes Asta with dread and worry, but another harsh cough knocks him out of that train of thought.</p>
<p>She presses a gentle hand to his forehead, pushing his bangs away and offering up a smile. “Slow, deep breaths,” she says. Her voice is steady, calm, and reassuring. Asta basks in the sunlight words as if he were a lizard. “In…and out…gentle and careful. Focus on the sound of my voice. Carefully take in a breath of warm air…”</p>
<p>Asta does so, rasping with phlegm and blood.</p>
<p>“…Now, let it go,” she says. He feels the gauze and cotton around his neck fall away with a few snips of scissors, and he lets all of his breath flow. Pain pricks him, and he coughs again. “Gentle, gentle.”</p>
<p>He turns his clouded eyes to Lily’s face again. It’s full of concentration and focus, and doesn’t match her motherly tone in the least bit. Her hands begin to touch his face. She tilts his chin up and moves the collar of his shirt out of the way. Her hands make a cupping shape, palms facing downwards to aim for his throat. Asta can’t see the magic, his eyes are pointed to the ceiling, but he can see the gentle glow as Lily works to alleviate any pain and immediate damage that the icy air has caused.</p>
<p>The tension in Asta’s shoulders leave as soon as the pain softens. He doesn’t feel as if he needs to cough anymore, the winter thorns are slowly but surely disappearing. As his body relaxes, and more indoor warmth snuggles him, he feels a flutter of exhaustion begin to encompass him. His eyelids unwillingly droop within seconds of his body realizing how much rest it needs. However, he blinks the tiredness away and refuses to fall asleep.</p>
<p>“Asta,” Lily says. “Please let yourself sleep.”</p>
<p>His waterline fills up fast as he feels guilt slam his heart again. Tears gather and quickly stream down his temples as he finally allows himself to cry. His one free hand reaches for something to grab. Lily takes it without a second thought all the while keeping her healing magic stable and working. It’s a comfort he’ll never take for granted. Sister Lily is…amazing. That’s all he can think of when he feels her hand in his. She is amazing.</p>
<p>The nun smiles without a speckle of negative emotion to show. Her face is kind, and her eyes are sparkling with courage. “Everything will be okay,” she says. “Now rest.”</p>
<p>Once again, Asta feels a feisty urge to reject her suggestion and kindness, and to tough his own way through. He almost does, too, but when he takes a long moment to blink he sees himself walking next to William Vangeance. His words echo in Asta’s head.</p>
<p>Lily cherishes him. He should let her continue to take care of him.</p>
<p>With those words in mind, Asta’s slow blink becomes a form of sleep. He simply never opens them back up. Tears are still flowing, of course, and he feels incredibly pathetic for breaking down like this, but the weight of endurance is catching up to his mind. He forgets his tears. He drifts into a slumber within moments of closing his eyes, and darkness is all he knows.</p>
<p>The darkness, however, is familiar. It’s empty.</p>
<p>“You’ve been crying a lot lately,” a familiar voice states. “You’re such a weak little shrimp.”</p>
<p>Asta blinks, and turns around to face his demonic doppelgänger. It all comes back to him the moment their eyes meet. This person isn’t just his demonic doppelgänger. “Aniki!” he exclaims.</p>
<p>The other one immediately loses all stoic composure and tuts. “Shut up, I’m not your brother,” he snaps. “Why are you so adamant on that bullshit? We are nothing alike.”</p>
<p>“You remind me of my brother,” Asta states, simple and straightforward. “He cares a lot about me and I can tell because he feels nice when I’m around him.”</p>
<p>The other one’s piqued expression becomes confused. “So…you call me your aniki…because of <em>that</em>?”</p>
<p>“Yeah!” Asta grins, happy to speak with someone. “I don’t feel scared of you. You’re loud and rude to me, though.”</p>
<p>“It’s because you’re annoying,” the other one states dryly. “You should just disappear.”</p>
<p>Asta gives the other one a hurt face. “You’re a jerk,” he says. “Don’t be mean.”</p>
<p>The other one lets out a strange, thrice-huffed laughter. “Ge-ge-ge,” is the sound he makes. “All devils are scum, including myself. You do yourself good to never forget that, dumbass.”</p>
<p>Asta pouts. “What’s gotten into you this time?” he asks sadly. “You were so nice before.”</p>
<p>The other one shoots a menacing glare that makes Asta’s heart skip a beat. “You know what you did,” he growls.</p>
<p>“No, I don’t!” Asta insists. He feels himself start to choke up, but he forces it down and glares back.</p>
<p>The other one very aggressively and very suddenly grabs Asta’s neck. His previously human-like arm has become a lengthy black limb full of long fingers, stringy muscles and sharp nails. Asta lets out a gasp of fear as the feeling of his throat being attacked zaps every existing cell in his body. He immediately begins to hyperventilate as jittery panic floods him.</p>
<p>“I know you’re terrified,” the other one crudely jeers. His voice is loud, reinforced by a wicked desire to intimidate and dominate. “You’re scared of me. I <em>know</em> you are…”</p>
<p>Asta feels his chest moving fast and hears his nose whistling with its speed, but he feels a fighting fire underneath it all. He refuses to give in. He’s backed down these past two opportunities, but this time he absolutely will not let his spirit go. His strong sense of retaliation breaks through the thickening surface of stress and terror, and compels him to fight back. He grabs the sturdy wrist of the other one, and seizes whatever he can with one single bite. There is no taste, no blood, just a leather texture on his tongue that his teeth can barely hold onto.</p>
<p>The other one lets out a genuine laugh as he watches Asta uselessly chomp. “Just give up on trying to be friends with a devil!” he declares smugly. “You’re only gonna get yourself killed.”</p>
<p>Asta doesn’t let up. He tightens his bite and digs his finger nails into the other one’s leather skin.</p>
<p>The other one sees this unfolding, and loses his sadistic sense of humor. His face twists. His mouth morphs into a small and tight frown; his eyebrows are at dramatically different heights. Asta’s bite is nothing compared to what the other one has felt before, but the devil has to admit that it’s impressive to have such spunk. He took ahold of Asta’s throat with full awareness of how much panic it would cause. Seeing those emeralds again…those <em>emeralds</em>…that…that time, all those years ago…his arm—his arm <em>his left arm</em> he needs to get his arm <em>away away away</em>—</p>
<p>He feels a surprisingly strong jolt of guilt and shame shake his core right then. The other one makes it known that he refuses to hold a gaze with those familiar emeralds—so painfully familiar—when he looks down and returns his arm to a more humanistic form. He lets go of Asta’s neck, and Asta lets go of the other one’s arm.</p>
<p>Immediately, though, Asta punches the other one directly in the cheek. “You’re a total <em>jerk</em>!” he screams, his eyes full of tears and his voice breaking with stress. “Why the hell would you do that?”</p>
<p>The other one touches his cheek, absolutely appalled that he’d been punched. He doesn’t let it stop him from rolling his eyes, though he doesn’t respond.</p>
<p>“Hey! Stupid devil aniki!” Asta shouts. He’s in the other one’s face now, and still yelling. “Answer me! Stupidhead! Tell me why you did that!”</p>
<p>The other one knows that if he speaks, he’d sound like a grieving mess. So, he does what he feels is best for himself.</p>
<p>He crosses his arms, and turns his face away.</p>
<p>All in the name of contempt.</p>
<p>Asta isn’t sure how to take the change of character in. His jaw hangs and his eyes widen. “Di…did you just give me <em>attitude</em>?” he asks.</p>
<p>The other one pivots in the empty space, his back turned to Asta and his tail flicking with feigned sass. “Hmph,” is all he says.</p>
<p>“<em>What</em>!” Asta shrieks in complete bewilderment. “You’re a <em>devil</em>! Aren’t you supposed to be <em>scummy</em>? What the heck is all of this! You’re so weird!”</p>
<p>Still, the other one doesn’t say anything.</p>
<p>Asta, uncertain of what to do, pouts and begins to poke the devil’s shoulders. “Hey…aniki…hey…aniki…” he says, over and over and over and over and over.</p>
<p>It’s not until he stops poking and grabs the other one’s tail that he gains any sort of reaction. The devil, as fast as lightning, whips around and grabs Asta’s shoulders. “I <em>swear</em>, if you don’t—“</p>
<p>Asta quickly interrupts him with a grab of his horns. However, it’s not a grab for petting. Asta doesn’t hesitate to pull on the horns as a means of momentum to dive in for a merciless head-butt.</p>
<p>The other one feels more pain in his horns than he does in his forehead. He immediately lets go of Asta’s shoulders and backs off, his hands looming over his head in despair. He’s making choked sounds as the pain alike millions of hair strands being ripped out all at once vibrates down his spine.</p>
<p>It’s the reaction that reminds Asta of just how hurtful it is for a devil’s horns to be manhandled. Flushed and apologetic, he reaches out but doesn’t grab the other one. “I’m <em>so</em> sorry!” he exclaims. “I-I forgot it hurt you! I’m super, duper sorry, aniki!”</p>
<p>“I’m…not…your…aniki…” the other one stifles as he works himself through the shock. He hasn’t felt pain like this in a while.</p>
<p>Asta couldn’t help but laugh. “Well you’re not a very good devil,” he counters. “I bet you would’ve killed me ages ago.”</p>
<p>The other one takes in a deep breath as the zapping sensation finally disappears. Initially he says nothing to that, because it’s true. The very first time they encountered one another, the other one couldn’t stop thinking about taking this kid’s body to use it for revenge. But his whole entire being is…<em>impeccable</em> in comparison to their mother. He crosses his arms again. “Just don’t call me aniki,” he points out. “That’s all. We’re not brothers.”</p>
<p>“Fine,” Asta snaps. He points at finger at him with an expression of determination. “Tell me your name then!”</p>
<p>The other one stares, thoughtful and stoic. An idea crosses his mind right then, and he grins. “You first,” he says.</p>
<p>“No way! I asked you first!” Asta retorts. “Tell me your name, <em>an-i-ki</em>!”</p>
<p>He tuts and looks away from Asta, not able to keep his eyes on his all-too-familiar face. Maybe his idea won’t work after all, if this little Asta really is the spawn of their mother. Names are significant in the realm of forbidden magic. A lesser being saying their name first is a sign of submission, and by extension that would mean a forged contract.</p>
<p>However, he doesn’t want to be called aniki. “Liebe,” he grumbles.</p>
<p>“Huh? I can’t hear you!”</p>
<p>“My name is <em>Liebe</em>, you fucking crybaby!” he shouts. “Now what’s your name!”</p>
<p>“My name is Asta!” he shouts back. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Liebe!”</p>
<p>“Stop shouting!” Liebe yells, though through the battle of the volume…he remembers something important.</p>
<p>When they’d first met, she had seriously considered naming her newfound demon baby <em>Asta</em>.</p>
<p>“You stop shouting!”</p>
<p>“I said to stop first!”</p>
<p>“Yeah, and? I said it second!”</p>
<p>Liebe glares in a menacing way, but there isn’t a single speckle of a threat in his expression any longer. His heart is too soft to continue that act now.</p>
<p>Asta smiles. “Anyways,” he continues at a bearable volume, “you still haven’t answered my question. Why were you so pissy earlier?”</p>
<p>“You’ve been ignoring me,” he snaps. “I’ve been trying to talk to you all day, ever since you woke up, and all you do is shut me out!”</p>
<p>Asta hums in thought as his smile falls. “I don’t get it,” he says. “I didn’t hear you at all.”</p>
<p>Liebe’s face becomes a dumbfounded expression. “You’re an idiot,” he grumbles. “Did you really not hear me? I was yelling at you to get away from that Magic Knight for <em>so</em> long! And what do you do instead of listening? You make <em>friends</em> with him. Don’t do that ever again!”</p>
<p>Asta tilts his head curiously. William certainly didn’t seem to be a Magic Knight at first—more like a well-endowed traveler. In the end, though, he’s still a Magic Knight. “How come?”</p>
<p>“They’re a bunch of aggressive and entitled bastards,” Liebe spits.</p>
<p>“I don’t know about that,” Asta says evenly. “William is super nice. I don’t know if Ms Mereoleona is a Magic Knight, but she’s super awesome and nice too.”</p>
<p>“I don’t care,” the devil grounds. “You humans are always convinced you’re entitled to something.”</p>
<p>“Uh…what’s entitled mean?”</p>
<p>“Means you think you deserve special treatment,” Liebe reluctantly explains. “I’d bet, if anything, your new magical friends wouldn’t hesitate to kill you if they found out about this.”</p>
<p>Asta’s expression shrinks and becomes solemn. “No they wouldn’t!” he insists. His voice is full of hurt at that notion. “They’re too nice!”</p>
<p>Liebe puts out an arm, to which Asta nervously tenses up, but he isn’t grabbed. Instead, Liebe flicks him squarely between his eyebrows. Asta yelps and tilts backwards into a never-ending spin. The empty darkness does nothing to stop it. As he’s spinning, Liebe crosses his arms and speaks. “<em>Kindness</em> isn’t good enough,” he states sternly, “and being <em>nice</em> isn’t worth shit.”</p>
<p>Asta’s arms and legs are flinging everywhere. He can’t stop himself, and dizziness is beginning to blight his head.</p>
<p>Liebe grabs his upper arm to stop his spinning. “You trust way too easily, you stupid brat,” he begins. “You need to realize that Magic Knights always have ulterior motives. <em>Always</em>! They protect their home all because they want to be glorified, and they’ll kill to do it. Devils threaten humans just by existing. Therefore, doing anything involved with devils is considered a threat to the Clover Kingdom! If they catch even a word of a rumor that you’re in contact with one, you’re done. They’ll execute you without any hesitation.”</p>
<p>Bewilderment and dizziness. For a few moments, it’s all that Asta knows. He blinks himself in and out of a daze, trying to understand what Liebe is saying. “But…”</p>
<p>“But what? They <em>helped</em> you? They feel obligated to, because they’re Magic Knights. They don’t care who you are,” the devil snaps. “Did you not hear a word I just said, Asta? It doesn’t fucking matter! It’s a reality you have to face if you want to keep calling me aniki.”</p>
<p>He says nothing to that. He’s still trying to process the fact that his own kingdom would kill him just for interacting with a devil, even if they’re like the one that he’s with right now. He can tell that Liebe is unusual for his kind. Growing up in a church, he hears about the religious power dynamics between good and bad every Sunday. The almighty God, who resides in up Heaven to rule the angels and fair human souls, and the villainous Devil, Satan, who resides down in Hell to rule with an iron fist while also committing the worst atrocities—simply out of spite of God, and all in order to make an ends meet for satisfaction. If Liebe is meant to be anything like Satan…then he’s doing a really, <em>really</em> bad job.</p>
<p>Liebe sighing interrupts his thinking. “You’re too young to understand,” he says. “When you see their true colors, though, you’ll know what I mean.”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Asta says, “you’re probably right. You know lots more than me. But it was super freaking cool to be carried by a Magic Knight! Could you see what I saw? William can do stuff with trees!”</p>
<p>Liebe gives him a certain look that goes through stages in the passing moments—recollection, analyzation, logical reasoning, and realization. “Tree magic, you say?”</p>
<p>Asta’s big smile returns as he nods. “Yeah! They came out of the ground when he touched it and made a little safe spot for my tatoes! That way he could carry me home, ‘cause it was an emergency.”</p>
<p>Liebe would admonish Asta for not letting him heal his rather critically injured throat, but his typically animated expression is replaced with a stagnant face. He’s very quiet and somber for a tad too long, and the silence makes Asta uncomfortable.</p>
<p>“Um…Liebe—“</p>
<p>“Let’s make a contract,” Liebe suddenly says. His face is still uncharacteristically straight and untouched by wicked desire. He has since decided to abandon his previous idea of using his little brother—ten years is too short, and he knows he would eventually feel guilty for killing such a little star.</p>
<p>Besides, if this William truly does have tree magic…then Liebe won’t have to wait much longer to exact his revenge.</p>
<p>Asta frowns. “What’s a contract?”</p>
<p>“It’s an official agreement between two people,” Liebe explains. He lets go of Asta’s arm and re-crosses his own arms. His eyes are narrowed in thought and his tail is swishing back and forth meticulously. “In this case, it’s an agreement between a human and a devil. For example, I’ll lend you my power if you’ll allow me to take a limb.”</p>
<p>Asta makes a ghastly sound. “A-a-a…a l-<em>limb</em>?” he sputters. “N-no way! I’m keeping my arms and legs to myself!”</p>
<p>Liebe gives a smile that promises another flick if the annoying sounds continue. “Shut up and make a contract with me.”</p>
<p>Asta pouts. “Can’t we just be friends?” he asks. “Making a contract doesn’t sound right.”</p>
<p>Fire opal and emeralds clash. The devil’s tail is swishing a little bit faster, almost cutting the emptiness, and his finger begins to tap against his arm. “<em>Friends</em>, you say…?” Liebe murmurs.</p>
<p>Asta nods. “Yeah, I wanna be friends,” he says. “You’re a jerk, but I think we’ll be be able to get along once we get to know each other.”</p>
<p>To Asta, Liebe’s demeanor is almost the same as Yuno. In a select perspective, while they’re both total jackasses, they don’t mean to genuinely hurt…although, Liebe is terrible at showing anything short of good. Asta can only guess that it’s because of his devilish nature.</p>
<p>“Alright,” Liebe finally says. He unfolds an arm, holding it out and fully expecting it to be taken without a second thought. “Let’s shake on it.”</p>
<p>Asta’s face lightens up. “Alright!”</p>
<p>Liebe grins as they take each other’s hand, shaking up and down in a mutual agreement. A mutual contract. “Very good,” he says evenly. “For as long as we’re friends, I’ll lend you my power, and you’ll lend me this arm.”</p>
<p>“I said no limb giving!” Asta exclaims.</p>
<p>Liebe cackles in his own unique way, though his chest is heaving with genuine mirth. “I’m totally serious!” he says. He lets go of Asta’s hand and laughs. “Thanks for the contract, kiddo!”</p>
<p>“You’re so mean!”</p>
<p>“I’m a devil, I can’t help it!” Liebe says as he continues to howl with laughter. To be perfectly honest, he’s never heard of a devil host being friends with their devil. He has heard of mutual understandings and slave-like contracts, but a relationship-based one is…unheard of.</p>
<p>Asta pouts and pinches Liebe’s cheek. “Stop laughing!” he tries, but the devil only continues.</p>
<p>A few more moments pass, and the laughter fades into a happy sigh. Asta still has Liebe’s face pinched between his thumb and fore finger. “Get yur grubby hands off mah fayshe,” he says around his stretched cheek.</p>
<p>Asta giggles and pulls his hand away. “So? What do you do?” he asks.</p>
<p>Liebe gives him a curious look. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“Like…what’s your devil thing? You don’t have magic or anything,” Asta points out.</p>
<p>His tail rises and curls. “Good question,” he says. “I have no mana like you, remember? Whatever powers you’ll have, if any manifest at all, is a complete mystery.”</p>
<p>Asta gives him a dry glare. “So you’re useless.”</p>
<p>Liebe punches his arm. “I…I just don’t know, you stupid idiot! I’m not a high-tier devil!”</p>
<p>“What do you <em>mean</em> you <em>don’t know</em>! You’re a <em>devil</em> inside of a grimoire and you don’t <em>know</em>?” Asta wails.</p>
<p>“Be quiet! I haven’t even been in here that long!” he retorts. “It’s still developing, idiot. Whatever was in this grimoire when it had four leaves did involve swords, though, so it’s looking like we’ll be swordsmen.”</p>
<p>Asta’s jaw drops and his eyes widen with bright, twinkling stars. “<em>Swords</em>!” he exclaims. “That’s epic!”</p>
<p>Liebe’s expression becomes ticked. Dealing with Asta’s volume is something he’ll just have to get used to, and a part of him absolutely hates it. “Sure,” is all he says to that.</p>
<p>“What else can you do?”</p>
<p>“If you could even manage to manifest my powers right now, you would be able to fly,” Liebe replies. He rubs his chin. “That’s all I can think of.”</p>
<p>“I can <em>fly</em>!” Asta shrieks. He is inappropriately excited. “That’s so cool! Let me do that! I wanna fly!”</p>
<p>Finally having enough of his persistence and his volume, Liebe tuts aggressively. He hooks an arm around Asta’s head and begins to give him a noogie. “You’re no good! A tiny, <em>mortal</em> human! An incomplete entity!” he shouts over Asta’s begging and yelping. “You’re a literal <em>child</em>! Don’t use my powers until you get a grimoire or need to save yourself! Tiny humans die the <em>easiest</em>! Idiot!”</p>
<p>“Then why even bother to do that whole contract thing!” Asta complains. “Ow!”</p>
<p>Liebe doesn’t stop digging his knuckles into Asta’s skull. “Shut up! You’re stupid!”</p>
<p>“No, you’re stupid!”</p>
<p>“No, you are!”</p>
<p>“No—ow! Stop!”</p>
<p>“I’m trying to nail intelligence in your stupid head! Stay still, brat!”</p>
<p>“You’re so mean! Stop it, you jerk!”</p>
<p>“Don’t be stupid, then!”</p>
<p>“Shut up! You’re a useless devil!”</p>
<p>“Alright, that’s it! I’ve had enough of your shit!”</p>
<p>“Wha—<em>woah</em>!”</p>
<p>Liebe doesn’t hesitate to let Asta out of his noogie trap, but he’s just as quick to dropkick his little brother faraway into the abyss. “Good riddance, you brat!”</p>
<p>“Stupidhead!” It’s the last thing Asta is able to retort before Liebe is completely out of his sight. The empty darkness swallows him up and returns him to…to where…?</p>
<p>Asta cracks open his eyes. His lids are heavy with sleep; they’re almost balking at the notion of being needed to work. He blinks. He feels warm, and the surface he’s laying on is hard. It’s uncomfortable. As he works to become less groggy, he takes in a breath of air but immediately finds himself regretting it. Familiar pain stabs at the innards of his throat. He tries his damndest best to hold in the urges to let it all out, but his efforts prove to be useless.</p>
<p>He lets out an intense outbreak of coughs. It jerks his sleepy muscles hard enough to give him the final push to sit up and prepare for any liquids. He grabs the sheet that’s draped over his legs and lets it all out with a wet wheeze. He grimaces throughout the fit, feeling burns of sharp fragments form within the middle of his chest, and reach all the way to the top of his tongue.</p>
<p>A gentle hand touches his back. He winces at the suddenness, turning to face the source. His immediate reactions are horror, dread and panic. But those kind eyes…they don’t deserve mistrust. With that in mind, his horror, dread, and panic recede to blend and transform into relief and trust.</p>
<p>Amethysts meet emeralds once again. William smiles as he rubs his thumb against Asta’s shirt in comfort. “You’re alright,” he assures. “Whatever nightmare haunts you is gone now.”</p>
<p>Asta quickly turns his face away. His eyes are widening as his fingers curl into the bloody part of the sheet. It hadn’t been a nightmare, nor had it been a dream. Liebe is real. Liebe is a devil. Therefore, Liebe is William’s natural enemy. And if William finds out…Asta is a goner.</p>
<p>William kneels and leans in closer, but not too close to be invasive. “Asta,” he says. “Let yourself relax. You’ll strain your throat too much.”</p>
<p>Asta stuffs his mouth and nose into the sheet. He takes a slow, meticulous and short breath. He lets it go. He takes another slow, meticulous, and short breath. He lets it go. The rhythm of his breathing becomes bearable enough for his exhausted body after a handful of controlled breaths. He closes his mouth and lets his nose out of the sheet. When no pain comes, he allows himself to breathe a bit more leniently.</p>
<p>“Is that better?” William asks. Asta nods. “That’s wonderful to hear. Everyone has been rather worried about you since you fell asleep. Your breathing was very shallow.”</p>
<p>Asta puts his chin on his hands, letting out a slight pout.</p>
<p>William chuckles and gently pats the top of his head. “Don’t beat yourself up over it,” he says. “You’ll be better in no time.”</p>
<p>He glances at the Magic Knight with a skeptical expression.</p>
<p>“Asta,” he starts to say, “would you like to come with me to the royal capital? I managed to pull a few strings while you were asleep. There’s a doctor there who is willing to heal you, free of charge.”</p>
<p>Asta’s skepticism grows. He raises an eyebrow and dramatically juts his bottom lip.</p>
<p>William presses a finger to the middle of his forehead. “You have an interesting aura,” he points out. “As such, there are interested parties in the capital that want to know more about it.”</p>
<p>He’s quick to move away from William, pressing himself against the backing of the church bench. He immediately feels too cornered. To prevent feeling like that, he climbs over the back and wraps his blanket around his head. There’s no way the Magic Knights have already found out about Liebe, but why else would a peasant be invited to the royal capital?</p>
<p>He doesn’t want to die.</p>
<p>“Asta?”</p>
<p>The call of his name makes him flinch. Hot tears helplessly brim his eyes, but he squeezes his eyes shut.</p>
<p>
  <em>Run, Asta. Run.</em>
</p>
<p>He can’t, though. He’s no match for a Magic Knight—he knows it. He has nothing to fight with.</p>
<p>Asta violently recoils when he feels William’s hand touch his head again. He’s quick to smack it away, and before he knows it he’s trying to yank his arm out of a surprisingly strong grip.</p>
<p>“Don’t do—“ William starts, but he cuts himself off as he continues to watch Asta struggle. His smile has long since disappeared, replaced by an unmoved, stoic expression. “Asta, please, listen—“</p>
<p>Asta interrupts him with a vehement shake of his head, still trying and failing to get himself free. He stops for a moment, and William opens his mouth to speak, but he lets out an affronted sound instead. Asta is biting down on his arm as hard as he can, disregarding the thick sleeve. He uses all of his jaw’s might to make William let go, but to no avail does it work. In fact, the grip on Asta’s wrist becomes stronger.</p>
<p>“Are you afraid?” William asks, though he doesn’t expect an answer. Despite the bone-deep pressure on his arm, his voice remains even. “I understand if you are. A trip to the royal capital is scary, but I can promise you on my pledged loyalty to the Clover Kingdom that nothing bad will happen to you.”</p>
<p>Asta’s jaw loosens when he hears those words—that promise. William is swearing on his loyalty to the kingdom. That has to mean <em>something</em>, right? Liebe said so himself; a Magic Knight is devoted to protect, after all…</p>
<p>
  <em>Don’t believe his words. A promise doesn’t mean shit. They’re going to kill you.</em>
</p>
<p>His bite does loosen, but hearing Liebe in the back of his head convinces him enough to keep his jaw clamped down to continue causing pain.</p>
<p>William, however, is a very perceptive and distinctive man. “You hear pesky and dark things in the back of your head, don’t you?” he asks.</p>
<p>That completely puts Asta off. He lets go of William’s arm this time, but his wrist is still in that steeled grip. His eyes are wide and his mouth never clicks shut. How could William Vangeance possibly know that there is a second voice in the back of his head?</p>
<p>The Magic Knight smiles. “A voice?”</p>
<p>He nods slowly in bewilderment.</p>
<p>“It’s a voice completely different from your own, right?” Asta nods again, and William’s smile widens. “It’s that voice that we need to know about, Asta. It’s big enough of a deal for the Wizard King to send his Magic Knight Captains all across the kingdom to search.”</p>
<p>
  <em>Ah. That is not good.</em>
</p>
<p>Asta can feel Liebe’s dread bubble in his chest next to his own fear. The terror coursing through his veins is occupying his mind too much for him to realize that William had just admitted to being a captain of a Magic Knights squad.</p>
<p>“You’re a sweet soul,” he continues, “and we would have left you alone if you weren’t projecting so much intimidating malice.”</p>
<p>That makes Asta frown. Is he really doing that?</p>
<p>He can feel Liebe’s equal amount of confusion as well. It couldn’t be him, right? With their most recent meet-up, Asta has his doubts. There isn’t a lick of mana or power in either of them to impose that much stress on such high-level mages.</p>
<p>In fact, this goes beyond doubt. He <em>refuses</em> to believe that he’s at fault.</p>
<p>“It’s a simple matter of asking questions,” William explains. “I promise I’ll bring you home when it’s all over.”</p>
<p>Asta uses his free hand to begin a mini-game of charades. Firstly, he points to William. Secondly, he points to himself. Then, to finally show his reasons for the pointing, he drags his thumb across his throat.</p>
<p>At that, William gives him a look of surprise. “You think we’re going to kill you?” he asks.</p>
<p>Asta nods nervously.</p>
<p>“No, no, that’s not how the Magic Knights operate,” he states. “We’re directly under the orders of the Wizard King, not the Clover King. They <em>are</em> different, you know.”</p>
<p>It doesn’t alleviate his fear enough.</p>
<p>“Why would you think that?” he asks. Asta quickly looks away. “…The voice is telling you that we would kill you, isn’t it?”</p>
<p>Asta isn’t sure if he should even do anything to respond. He simply keeps his eyes on the floor.</p>
<p>William finally lets his tight grip of his arm go, but something catches his eye. He holds Asta’s hand out to study whatever it is he found. Asta looks up and at his own arm as well, only to find himself reacting with shock. There are two inked rings wrapped around the base of his wrist, with skinny and repetitive spikes sticking outwards. Between the two decorated rings are strange symbols he’s never seen before. The spaces between each symbol is perfectly even, and there isn’t an ounce of sloppiness in the way they’re written.</p>
<p>Asta hasn’t a clue as to what it is. Liebe’s feeling of familiarity, however, gives him the confidence to safely assume that it’s related to their fresh contract.</p>
<p>“You didn’t have a tattoo this morning, did you?” William asks. He catches Asta’s eye before the mute boy could get a chance to think of a way to lie. “I have no idea what this means. It’s very interesting, though.”</p>
<p>Asta gives him a questioning look. Aren’t all mages educated on the existence of devils?</p>
<p>“Are you ready?” William asks dismissively. “To leave for the royal capital, I mean.”</p>
<p>Hearing that makes his hands clench and uncertainty ties his chest into a knot, but the realization that making any more resisting moves would be entirely useless overpowers him. Biting had barely made William flinch. The skill gap is simply too great, even with Liebe’s power.</p>
<p>So he just huffs and nods.</p>
<p>William smiles despite the attitude. “Wonderful,” he says. “Get yourself ready, please. We leave as soon as you’re done.”</p>
<p>Asta simply stands and exits the room. By all means, he’s in no rush. The only things he has to grab is a pair of shoes and a jacket, anyways. When he enters the room that he shares with Yuno, his eyes scan the entire floor. Nothing is amiss, but he absorbs every detail.</p>
<p>Just in case.</p>
<p>After a few moments, he grabs his jacket off the coat hanger. It’s freshly washed by Lily, and his shoes are neatly placed under his jacket. He doesn’t doubt that Yuno did this. They’re both messy, but Yuno is the organized type of messy. Asta is just the embodiment of chaos. Regardless of his thoughts, however much they continue to make him ponder his family, he slips the shoes on.</p>
<p>A tapping sound catches his attention as he moves to put the second shoe on. He looks up at the window that’s well above his head, and immediately gets startled by two glowing red eyes.</p>
<p>In the dusk light, he can see a vague shape of the creature. It’s a bird—skinny, but with a lot of feathers. It also has…horns, and its huge black beak is pointed directly at him as if it were the tip of a sword.</p>
<p>As soon as the bird is seen, Liebe is in a fit of rage. Asta is simply appalled with a sprinkle of confusion on top.</p>
<p>He flinches and leans away when the bird’s beak aggressively pecks against the glass of the window once. The force of the single peck cracks the the window. Asta grabs his other shoe and leaves the room without a second glance. Liebe is becoming an overwhelming wrath, and Asta doesn’t want to be stabbed to death by such an…interesting and terrifying bird.</p>
<p>William is patiently waiting for him in the common area of the church. He smiles his greeting, but only watches in amusement as Asta stumbles over himself trying to get his second shoe on. The captain turns and begins to walk away when Asta’s second foot is finally on the ground. He’s leaving no time to spare.</p>
<p>Asta is a little exasperated by that, but he doesn’t let himself fall behind. He can only cross his fingers and hope that this trip will go well. He trusts William as much as he trusts Liebe, and he can’t find the heart to decide whose words to follow right now. They’re both genuine, full of experience and emotional outreach.</p>
<p>But Asta can tell…he can tell that they both have an ulterior motive.</p>
<p>He stops thinking and trailing after William when he hears the same sound of a beak cracking glass. He turns his head to the ceiling-high window with apprehension, and sees the same bird glowering at him. Its wings are flapping, but they’re…off. It takes a moment of hard staring; he realizes that this jet-black bird doesn’t have a pair of wings.</p>
<p>It has four. Two, flapping…two flapping on each side…it has two pairs of wings.</p>
<p>He feels like he can confidently say that a black horned bird with four wings isn’t a normal thing. He’s never seen anything like it until today, and he’s definitely not ready to be stabbed by that ridiculously strong beak. Staring at the bird once again, however, he can feel Liebe’s rage boiling over.</p>
<p>“Asta,” William calls. “Hurry along. We mustn’t waste time.”</p>
<p>He has to force his eyes to look away from the bird. He makes certain to glue himself to William, though. He ends up borderline clinging like a helpless child, but that…that bird just isn’t normal. It’s an omen. It <em>has</em> to be.</p>
<p>
  <em>…kill them kill it kill it kill it kill that damn bird decapitate it destroy it burn it kill it kill—kill it—murder murder murder murder murder murder murder murder—</em>
</p>
<p>Asta is quickly learning that Liebe’s anger doesn’t know when to stop flooding.</p>
<p>William steps outside into the winter evening, letting out a cloud of air as his face touches the ice once again. Asta, on the other hand, feels a shiver rock his body as the winter sucks any sense of indoor warmth out of him. His teeth begin to chatter almost immediately.</p>
<p>“Yeesh, cold already?”</p>
<p>He looks to the origin of the new, gruff voice. It’s a very tall and muscular man. His complexion and eyes are very different from anyone else he’s ever seen. His hair is a dark umber brown, and he’s staring at Asta with two beady gems of smokey quartz. That gaze is like that unnerving four-winged bird, but without the bad feeling. This stranger wears very plain and well-worn clothing, too, but he has a sword at one side and a grimoire-holder belt wrapped around his hips. That’s what makes him notably different.</p>
<p>The cigarette in his hand and the tattered shoulder cloak, however, aren’t things that too strange and new to Asta.</p>
<p>It becomes apparent that William is very familiar and friendly with this seemingly new face. “You’re one to talk,” he says. “You’ve got goosebumps right now.”</p>
<p>The new man tuts, throwing his old cigarette to the ground. Right after he rubs it into the ground with his foot, he puts a new, unlit cigarette to his mouth. “Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he grumbles.</p>
<p>Asta is cringing as he begins to breathe the cold air. It hurts. This air hurts, it hurts <em>so bad</em>, and Liebe’s persisting rage is making him more uncomfortable around strangers than he should be. He feels a panic rise with the dire need to cough. He can’t. He can’t, not in this cold…and especially not in front of such new faces.</p>
<p>Where are the old faces when he needs them most?</p>
<p>
  <em>…cover your ears that stupid fucking crow is gonna ruin us all, Asta cover your ears cover your ears your throat doesn’t matter right now don’t be stupid please listen to me—</em>
</p>
<p>Asta looks up to the sky. That four-winged bird is circling over them. As he observes its shape, he realizes something. This is the same bird that he’d been staring at when he’d crashed into William Vangeance. He blinks in surprise at the new connection he’s made. What does that mean? Is the bird following him?</p>
<p><em>…Asta Asta Asta you stupid idiot listen to me and </em>cover your fucking ears<em>!</em></p>
<p>An adrenalin rush slams his body very suddenly as Liebe’s words finally gets through to him. His arms move fast to cover his ears, and it’s just in time for that creepy bird to let out an oddly normal <em>caw, caw</em>…like a crow. Of course, underneath his hands the sound is muffled. It doesn’t repeat, either. It eerily circles above their heads one last time before it departs. The only sounds it could possibly make as it flies in the opposite direction of the large demon skull is the ruffle of feathers.</p>
<p>William taps his arm kindly and cautiously. Asta moves his hands off his ears. “Do you hate crows?” he asks.</p>
<p>Asta feels confused for a second. He blinks a few times, unsure if he should even move to reply. He doesn’t hate crows, but had they really not seen that bird? It had four freaking wings, a skinny body, a long beak, and long tail feathers. A <em>crow</em>, of all things, is what it’s actually being mistaken for. And by Magic Knights, too!</p>
<p>“We get it, crows are annoying. Let’s just go,” the new man says shortly. “Finral!”</p>
<p>“Y-yes, captain…?”</p>
<p>“To the royal capital! Preferably indoors and out of this god-forsaken cold.”</p>
<p>An even newer face shows himself. He’s very young, though his brow is creased with a clear and responsive stress from the pressure that the the dark-haired man is putting on him. The new boy lets out a sigh. His grimoire rises and floats by his side, pages flipping as he begins to work his mana.</p>
<p>Asta stares in shock as a shimmering white oval appears out of thin air. It’s incredibly bright and shiny. The edges are struggling to remain clean, but he is still fascinated by it.</p>
<p>The dark-haired man is the first to step through. William moves to follow, but he notices that Asta is too enchanted to notice the movement. He extends a hand back fully expecting to only need to gesture, but at the expense of his composure Asta actually takes his hand.</p>
<p>Of course, the stars don’t leave his eyes.</p>
<p>Asta never even feels it. Stepping through the shimmering, two-dimensional oval doesn’t tickle any senses. Originally, he’s in Hage…and then he’s suddenly in a room with a long table, many chairs, nice carpet, decorated walls—it’s a gorgeous room. Absolutely magnificent. </p>
<p>The new boy follows last, huffing and puffing as he drags himself through the shimmering portal. “I’m a goner…” he moans. “I can’t keep living like this…!”</p>
<p>“Stop crying!” the dark-haired man booms. “Surpass your limits, Finral! We’ve got at least one more trip to go today! Don’t be a failure!”</p>
<p>The new boy, Finral, groans and crumples to his knees. His previously well-held posture is now desolate, and his head falls. “Just bury me here, captain! This is too much limit surpassing…”</p>
<p>The dark-haired man only tuts and glares at his wilting subordinate.</p>
<p>Asta lets go of William’s hand and steps up to Finral. He reaches out to mercilessly grab his cheeks, pinching and stretching them. Finral immediately makes sounds of surprise and protest, not expecting to be approached in this way. He tries to pry himself free of this menacing grip, but he finds that Asta’s fingers are way too strong for such a tiny kid.</p>
<p>“Oi, Goldilocks,” the dark-haired man says to William. “What’s he doing?”</p>
<p>William shrugs lightheartedly. “I haven’t the slightest,” he replies. “I believe he’s just giddy. Forsaken Realm citizens almost never get opportunities like this unless they’re Magic Knights.” </p>
<p>“Hn, I suppose that’s true…” he mutters. As he watches the scene unfold, he rolls his eyes at Finral’s pathetic sputtering. “You’re really gonna let some kid just pinch your cheeks like that? Pathetic.”</p>
<p>Immediately, Finral stops his careful insisting and begging to give Yami a look of emotional hurt. “C-captain Yami, pleashe…he’sh having fun,” he says with his mouth still getting stretched.</p>
<p>William chuckles, but decides that it’s time for the shenanigan to stop. “Asta,” he says, “you’re invading his personal space.”</p>
<p>Asta does release Finral when he hears that, but he doesn’t let him off the hook just yet. After letting go, he digs his forefingers back in and lifts the corners of his mouths up in a smile. He completely stops when he smiles back at the faked smile. Finral deflates upon departure.</p>
<p>The dark-haired man—Captain Yami is what Asta assumes his name is—lets out a loud guffaw that reminds him of Tophney. Tears bud at the corners of his eyes, and he holds his stomach to handle the genuine belly laugh. Asta isn’t sure what to make of it, but William seems to be entirely unfazed by the chaos surrounding him.</p>
<p>William, still unbothered, doesn’t wait for Yami’s bout to finish. He simply looks to Asta, beckoning for the young boy to follow. Asta casts glances at the two Magic Knights he’s leaving behind, wondering if the wilting and laughing would stop, but he doesn't pay it any more mind than he needs to. He makes sure to keep up with the stone wall of a man this time. Asta is still scanning his surroundings with pure curiosity as he takes leave. This room alone looks…sophisticated. It’s super clean, too.</p>
<p>William swings the door open and steps aside for Asta to pass by him. Asta doesn’t think twice about that subtle move, but Liebe is distrustful enough of the captain to know an underhanded setup when he sees one.</p>
<p>Of course Asta is too young and too green to make use of the contract just yet, and he falls unconscious from a swift chop to the back of his head.</p>
<p>(Once again, the young boy is in the emptiness with his demonic doppelgänger.)</p>
<p>“Yo…William, what are you doing?” Yami asks. That move is not like William in the least bit, and there hadn’t been a single conversation that even foreshadowed such a rudimentary action.</p>
<p>William turns his face over his shoulder and presents the very same joyous smile he shows when he holds conversation. Yami finds that he is entirely creeped out by it. “He is in poor health,” he explains. “Being surrounded and scrutinized by high-level mages for hours isn’t ideal.”</p>
<p>Finral is silently bewildered, but knows that it’s not his place to reject a captain’s judgment.</p>
<p>The darkness mage steps up to William with an intimidating glare. “Tell me next time,” he says with a low tone of voice. “That just ain’t right.”</p>
<p>William scoops the child up, making sure that his arms and head aren’t hanging out. “He’s been coughing up blood due to his wounds and the winter cold,” he says pointedly. “You’ll see what I mean if you’re around for Marx’s memory scan.”</p>
<p>Yami keeps his glare on his longtime, oddball friend even as he walks away. He averts his gaze to Finral in brief silence before reluctantly accepting William’s words. He tails behind at a much slower pace.</p>
<p>William does feel bad for knocking out Asta. He knows how valuable a child’s excitement is…but that being said, he also knows how cruel it is to crush it.</p>
<hr/>
<p>It is a sight to behold.</p>
<p>William knows it so. Many familiar eyes slide to meet his presentation. Some are unresponsive, some are slightly surprised, some don’t even bother to look. Every single Magic Knight leader is present now.</p>
<p>Fuegoleon is the first to speak up. “Who is that, Vangeance?”</p>
<p>His stoic expression rises with a smile. “The cause,” he simply states.</p>
<p>“A…child…” the Crimson Lion Knights captain drawls. He looks to Yami for reassurance, but doesn’t receive any. “I mean no disrespect, but…you’re certain?”</p>
<p>William says nothing. He simply places Asta on the bed that had been prepared in advance within the depths of the interrogation levels.</p>
<p>“He’s so tiny,” a woman’s voice comments by his shoulder. She leans over Asta with wide purple eyes, motherly worry and genuine curiosity written all over her face. “He’s got a cowlick, too! Aww…”</p>
<p>William only smiles. He could never understand Acier’s love for cowlicks.</p>
<p>Julius is at his other side with big, round and bright sparkly eyes. His mouth is open in excitement, and just going by his expression alone, William already knows what his fascination is about. “<em>Wow</em>!” the Wizard King exclaims. “This kid doesn’t have an ounce of mana!”</p>
<p>The surprise ebbs through the room. Charlotte, Jack, Fuegoleon, Acier, and Julius are all leaning in even more out of piqued curiosity. Yami, Marx, William, and Gueldre stay back. As they search, they find…nothing. Their slackening expressions speaks for themselves.</p>
<p>When William had made the connection himself, he could agree that it was a shock. After all, how could one defective child from the Forsaken Realm cause such an uproar in the heart of the royal capital? It’s unprecedented. Not even a captain could accomplish that.</p>
<p>Acier leans back. Her face is slightly crumpled with sympathy, but even through that William can see a resolve to protect the kingdom if this kid presents an ounce of a threat.</p>
<p>“Marx!” Julius says, borderline begging. “Let’s get the show going, I wanna see what this kid is all about!”</p>
<p>“Lord Julius, I have been the one waiting on all of you,” Marx mutters. From the backend of the room, he steps up to side of the bed opposite from William. He shoos Jack and Fuegoleon away to make space for his grimoire. Along with the glowing tome rises his hands, and his face sharpens with focus as he begins to use his memory displaying spell on Asta. “Where shall we start?”</p>
<p>Julius rubs his chin for a moment as he stares at the multitude of flat, white displays. “Hmm…William? Any ideas?”</p>
<p>“No,” he replies honestly. “I have been told by his caretaker that he’s been injured very recently, but that is all I can provide.”</p>
<p>At that, he nods amiably. “Alright! Let’s go back…one week. Marx, if you could.”</p>
<p>Marx moves his hands as if he were to play a piano. Light, concentrated movements guide his magic through these memories the higher-ups are seeing. There is a noticeable and immediate change when he reaches the seventh day mark of Asta’s latest memories. In the brief flashes that they’d all seen, it went from living the playful outdoors life to needing to be cooped up inside of a church.</p>
<p>One week ago. One full week, seven days past—Asta is alright. He is full of words and sounds. He pesters and moves and has a very loud voice, even for a ten-year-old boy. Quite a boisterous, lively child…untouched by intense pain and traumatic hardship. There is not a lick of stress to be shown.</p>
<p>William feels his expression tighten a bit, and involuntarily so. If this start of memory searching leads him to assume correctly, then this child has been through quite a bit in a very short time.</p>
<p>Marx reaches a reasonable destination, and the reel begins.</p>
<p>The first day is full of tatoes and clothes shopping. Sister Lily takes Asta and Yuno deeper into the village with a handful of yuls. She buys them each a scarf of their choice, and that’s the highlight of their day. The rest is a blur.</p>
<p>The second day has a significantly earlier uprising. Yuno chops oakwood and dries the laundry, Asta carries it all in, and before the sun can rise over that big demon skull, they’re done with their chores. Sister Lily and, presumably, the Father of the church wave their farewells. For the rest of the day, Yuno and Asta play and wrestle, and at one point in their reckless endeavors, Asta manages a tumble over a tree root. It’s a blur after that.</p>
<p>The third day has heavy snow clouds looming over the area. After the routine chores are done, Asta and Yuno run through the village to play tag. There is nothing relevant enough to review after that.</p>
<p>The fourth day, there is snowfall. The morning chores are completed in a different way due to the snow, but there is also a certain amount of detail that hadn’t been there in previous days. No one comments on it, though.</p>
<p><em>“Nya, nya, nah-boo-boo! You can’t catch me!”</em> Asta taunts. He pulls his left eye’s waterline down and sticks out his tongue.</p>
<p>Yuno glares, but his amber eyes are clearly full of tears. <em>“I’m gonna kick your butt!”</em> he proclaims.</p>
<p>William feels a pang of sadness when he sees just how lively Yuno is. This boy in Asta’s memory is completely different from the one that had reluctantly given thanks earlier today.</p>
<p>“We can actually hear them now,” Fuegoleon speaks up. “What does that mean?”</p>
<p>“It means that today is something he can’t forget,” Julius explains. “I suppose this is the day he got injured.”</p>
<p>Asta is running through the snow-filled streets with huffs and puffs trailing over his shoulder. He rounds a corner and glances over his shoulder, but stops when he doesn’t see Yuno chasing after him. <em>“Yuno!”</em> he calls. When he doesn’t get an answer, he calls again. <em>“Yuno! Where’d ya go?”</em></p>
<p>He retraces his footsteps curiously, but when he rounds the corner again his line of sight widens. There is a slouched drunk holding Yuno by the collar of his shirt. His fist is raised, but that’s all Asta needs to see to take action. He charges forward in a sprint and slams his elbow right into the man’s exposed ribs. There is a loud grunt from the man, but he still doesn’t let go of Yuno.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Asta!”</em>
</p>
<p><em>“What are you doing to Yuno, jerk!”</em> Asta shouts.</p>
<p><em>“He has my necklace! Please…please give it back!”</em> Yuno has begun to cry at this point, but it fuels Asta’s fire more than anything.</p>
<p>Asta grabs ahold of the man’s drunken fist. <em>“Give it back!”</em> he shouts.</p>
<p>Acier is in clear distress as she watches the child with apprehensive eyes. “He is rather feisty, isn’t he?” she comments offhandedly.</p>
<p>William knows it better than anyone else in the room.</p>
<p><em>“No! Now get the fuck off me, you stupid brat!”</em> the drunken thief angrily retorts. Finally, he lets go of Yuno’s shirt to punch Asta right in the jaw, and that’s when the fight gets blurry.</p>
<p>In the end, Asta takes quite the beating. His vision is obscured by a swelling eye, but he wouldn’t stop charging at the drunk until the necklace was unhanded. It takes a double-digit amount of swoops, assaults, and flails for Asta to finally be able to grab the loose chain of the necklace. He yanks with all his brawn as soon as he knows he has it in his hand.</p>
<p>The drunk makes a sound of annoyance as the pendant gets taken. Like lightning, he strikes back—sure and quick. There is a choked sound, and after that everything in Asta’s perspective is dark, blurry and has no coherency. Marx simply weaves his fingers and moves onward.</p>
<p>“Did we see anything?” Julius asks the group. Marx takes it upon himself to pause the reel to allow a conversation.</p>
<p>“All I saw was a dick move,” Yami says.</p>
<p>“Oh, poor boy…” Acier coos. She brushes a mother’s hand over his forehead.</p>
<p>“I saw nothing aside from what Yami said,” Charlotte says. Her eyebrows are tightly knitted and her arms are crossed. Fuegoleon, Jack and Gueldre make it a point to keep a fair distance from her, but not because of the fact that she would lash out at men.</p>
<p>William remains silent. The drunk thief’s face is memorized well enough for now. If he happens to see that man, he will be sure to return the Hell he had thoughtlessly served.</p>
<p>“Hmm…alright, then,” Julius says. He’s staring at the blackened memory with a hand thoughtfully rubbing his chin. “Go ahead and continue, Marx.”</p>
<p>The next most notable thing to happen in Asta’s memory reel is the fact that Mereoleona makes an appearance. She had scared the lights out of Asta, which causes him to fall into a bloody stupor.</p>
<p>Asta’s forced retention skips forward a few minutes, blocked by pain. Mereoleona is staring down at him with a look of surprise and curiosity. <em>“You’re a void,”</em> she says, and that is the only thing the memory allows them to hear.</p>
<p>Fuegoleon keeps wide and attentive eyes on his sister as she makes a healthy appearance. Acier has a big, happy smile too. Despite the contrasting reactions between the two, they both have a relieved sparkle in their eyes. Aside from Yami and William, no one had expected her appearance. It’s a heartfelt surprise, to say the least. The eldest child of the main Vermillion family hasn’t been seen or heard from in ten years.</p>
<p>There is a reason for it, William recalls, but he doesn’t know it. The only time he’s ever caught wind of it had been about five years ago, back when Fuegoleon was still a vice-captain. It’d been at a small, casual party meant to celebrate Julius’ promotion to Wizard King. That day, everyone in attendance had learned that little Leopold has an insatiable curiosity and flimsy lips.</p>
<p>The memory continues in a blur. However, things become clear and interesting when Asta falls asleep. It’s another surprise to witness. Marx has said over and over again to the dumb and persistent that dreams are fleeting hallucinations. They’re not memories. Yet when this boy closes his eyes and the darkness continues, it becomes apparent that this is a memory to pay close attention to.</p>
<p>
  <em>“Who…who are you?”</em>
</p>
<p>Asta turns himself around, and as soon as his eyes land on the source of the voice, everyone blanches.</p>
<p>“Marx, pause it!” Julius exclaims.</p>
<p>Quickly, his right-hand man stops the memory reel from continuing.</p>
<p>“What the hell is that?” Yami asks. His question voices everyone’s rude awakening of the situation. Even he is beginning to lean in over William’s shoulder. His cigarette is almost completely gone, but it still hangs from his lips.</p>
<p>It is a sight to behold.</p>
<p>Mouths agape, eyes understandably wide. Everyone absorbs the image like spectacular sponges. Each present mage is in a state of shock.</p>
<p>William is unexpectedly included in that bunch. With all of his genuine and valid human heart, he’d believed that this boy—that this young, mana-less, Forsaken child named Asta—had been exactly like him. The Magic Knight had wholesomely believed, <em>hoped</em>, that there had been presence in the back of his head as well, screaming to exact revenge for the death of a race…</p>
<p>But that is not the case here.</p>
<p>“Oi, oi, oi…” Jack mutters. “Is that what I think it is?”</p>
<p>William flinches. Patolli’s soul, while still groggy, is awake enough to notice what is in front of his host’s eyes.</p>
<p>An evil, vile creature.</p>
<p>William realizes what that thing is; perhaps he is the first, but with how Patolli is feeling…he knows.</p>
<p>They are looking at a <em>devil</em>.</p>
<p>It is a sight to behold, indeed.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>;)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. kadan</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yayy a new chapter!!!</p><p>this was good to write, and im super excited for next chapter, but ive got some planning to do before then 🤧🤧</p><p>anyways, if ur not new, u mightve noticed that i changed the tags around a bit! thats bc im basically typing and working out the plot at the same time. a personal rule of thumb i have is to let the first 5-6 chapters be the cement base for a plot so :) hehe</p><p>im just ranting at this point, but enjoy!</p><p>wc: 8.1k</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p><p> </p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p><b>kadan</b>—(n.) <em>literally “where the heart lies”; this is an all-purpose word for a thing, or a person, you care about. the royal capital, and the vermillion royal house, is not a place for mereoleona’s kadan.</em></p>
</blockquote><hr/><p>Sometimes, William dearly wishes his desire to no longer feel alone would just disappear.</p><p>His face is stoic, but his chest is rife with bad faith. Of course, these feelings are not Asta’s fault. The blame is all on himself for allowing his heart to feel such hope. Discovering that the second voice—a thing he could relate to so painfully, and thus felt so confident about—actually being a <em>devil</em>, has, to plainly put it, hurt his ego.</p><p>He looks down to the bed sheets with deep, berating thoughts bouncing in the innards of his skull. He feels defeated, and, if he hadn’t spent years on discipline alone, he would have excused himself. In the end, though, he knows all too well that he shouldn’t bother to dote on his own self-betrayal here of all places. His world doesn’t need to know of the unusual case of his second soul.</p><p>“There’s no doubt about it,” Julius says. His voice tries and fails to cut through the tense air like a dull knife would on some whale blubber, but he continues his statement anyways. “It’s a strange creature.”</p><p>William smiles a little. Selectively humorous as always, the Wizard King is.</p><p>Fuegoleon’s serious personality clashes with the subtlety of the joke. He looks to his superior with wide, teal topazes. “A…a strange creature…?” he echoes. “Lord Julius, that is so obviously a devil!”</p><p>Jack the Ripper, newly promoted Captain of the Green Mantis squadron, makes a long face that is in total disbelief of Fuegoleon’s reaction. “He cracked a joke, Fuegoleon! A <em>joke</em>!”</p><p>“Now isn’t the time for jokes, Jack!” the Vermillion booms.</p><p>Jack covers his ears and tuts. “You’re far too close to me to be yelling…” he grumbles.</p><p>Yami laughs just as loud as Fuegoleon had shouted. He points an accusatory finger at Jack, entirely amused by the brief interaction. “Look at the wee bug go! You’re gonna get crushed by the lion man!”</p><p>“Shut up! I’ll shred you, buffoon!”</p><p>“I’d love to see you try, beanpole!”</p><p>“Oh? Is that a <em>challenge</em> I hear?”</p><p>Julius puts his hands up calmly. “Now, now…” he mediates. “This isn’t quite the time for a duel.”</p><p>“Rain check win!” Yami proclaims. “I call it!”</p><p>“Those don’t exist, dumbass!” Jack retorts.</p><p>“They do now…’cause I created it!” He hoots triumphantly.</p><p>“Huh? Fine, then, <em>I</em> call a rain check win!”</p><p>William doesn’t foresee this argument ending without an even bigger fight happening, so he taps out with a practiced ear.</p><p><em>You should kill the boy, </em>his second voice takes the chance to say. He’s always so ready to whisper in William’s ear, and be tragically angry. <em>A devil’s host has no right to live.</em></p><p>His self-betrayal disappears. He feels dejected hearing those words. He knows his answer; he would never kill a child without an insanely dire need to. He also knows that Patolli, his second voice, would do whatever he pleases. He’s willing to give his metaphysical roommate the benefit of his doubt, though. William can only hope that his decision to keep good faith in Patolli doesn’t leave too sour of an aftertaste.</p><p>“Will you two be quiet?” Acier snaps. Her voice pulls William back to the current situation. “We can’t mess around! We need to see what happens next.”</p><p>Her loud voice overruns the petty arguing, and Julius sighs in relief. “Such ruffians,” he comments with an endearing tone. However, the lighthearted atmosphere dissolves into a solemn one. “Marx, gather all of his memories that are demon-related.”</p><p>“What kind of cues would you like, sir?”</p><p>“Let’s start with visual memory cues,” he says.</p><p>Six panels show themselves after a few fidgeting moments. In four of them, Asta is face-to-face with the devil. In two of them, the devil’s face is only a flickering image. However, one of the four displays that has the devil’s face plastered on it is flickering in and out of view.</p><p>Yami is the first to ask about it. “Mushroom boy, why’s that one flickering?”</p><p>Marx glares. “Stop calling me mushroom boy…”</p><p>“Then don’t have a weird ass haircut!”</p><p>“That means a memory is being made,” Julius quickly interjects. “Marx can’t access it just yet, but it does tell us that he’s currently interacting with this devil.”</p><p>Yami’s face twists as if he were being told a ghost story. He is the most expressive one in the room, though.</p><p>William remains silent. He glances between the memory displays and Asta once. It’s the only sign of life he offers for the time being; he remains quiet and still, trying to aloofly process the weight of his emotions.</p><p>“Alrighty, then…” Julius ponders aloud. “Which one, Charlotte?”</p><p>She glances at him in disbelief. “Y-you want <em>me</em> to choose?”</p><p>The Wizard King smiles. “Yes!”</p><p>“Very well, then…” Charlotte murmurs. She points to the one that is her leftmost. “This one. It looks like they’re much more familiar with each other here.”</p><p>“Sounds wonderful!” Julius says. “Marx, if you could.”</p><p>Marx wordlessly begins to work his mana once again. His fingers gracefully move to manage and navigate the chosen memory, and within quick seconds, the scene is playing.</p><p>
  <em>“Aniki!”</em>
</p><p>Just about every witness makes a mortified sound. Sleepy Dorothy, observant Gueldre, and thoughtful William are the only silent attenders.</p><p>“Did he just call the devil his <em>aniki</em>?” Yami exclaims.</p><p>Acier and Julius silence him as quickly as possible.</p><p>
  <em>“Tch. Shut up, I’m not your brother. Why are you so adamant on that bullshit? We are nothing alike.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You remind me of my brother. He cares a lot about me and I can tell because he feels nice when I’m around him.”</em>
</p><p><em>“So…you call me your aniki…because of </em>that<em>?”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Yeah! I don’t feel scared of you. You’re loud and rude to me, though.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s because you’re annoying. You should just disappear.”</em>
</p><p>William couldn’t help but feel a slight of a reaction flutter in his chest. What is the deal with this devil? He sounds like…he sounds like he’s imitating someone else to give off this impression.</p><p><em>“You’re a jerk,”</em> Asta says. <em>“Don’t be mean.”</em></p><p>
  <em>“Ge-ge-ge! All devils are scum, including myself. You do yourself good to never forget that, dumbass.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What’s gotten into you this time? You were so nice before.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You know what you did.”</em>
</p><p><em>“No, I don’t!”</em> Asta insists.</p><p>Everyone flinches as they watch the devil’s arm reach and grab Asta with alarming speed. His vision becomes dark and it shakes as he struggles under the terrorizing grip. He’s gasping—everyone can easily deduce that, but William doesn’t hear <em>choking</em>.</p><p>His curiosity is burning as he watches. It makes him speak up. “I believe that it’s safe to assume that this devil won’t try anything,” he says.</p><p>Marx pauses the memory and gives William a pointed look. “And what makes you say that?”</p><p>“Asta is panicking, but he isn’t being choked,” he points out. “I know for certain that we all know the sound of choking well enough.”</p><p>Marx doesn’t reply. No one else makes a comment, either, and that’s when he takes it upon himself to begin playing the memory again. Perhaps the captain of the Golden Dawn should’ve spoken at a different time, but…well, there’s not much to <em>but</em> about now.</p><p>Sometimes, William dearly wishes his desire to no longer feel alone would just disappear…it’s almost as strong as his dear wish for his astute observation to be more understood.</p><p>
  <em>“I know you’re terrified. You’re scared of me. I know you are…”</em>
</p><p>William is the only one to wince when Asta bites the devil’s odd skin. It’d been very noticeable, too, but the memory is too intense and enticing. Excluding his own, all eyes are focused on the reel. He can only suppose that the bite in this memory had been inspiration for earlier this evening. He admits that it…it definitely hurt. It still does. Asta has a lot of strength. He’ll need to visit a healer for it later, just to be sure.</p><p><em>“Just give up on trying to be friends with a devil!” </em>the devil is saying.<em> “You’re only gonna get yourself killed.”</em></p><p>A quiet moment passes in the memory. Asta never relents. The devil, on the other hand, is clearly going through a series of emotions. Just going by the facial expression alone, William can see flashes and smears of displeasure, acknowledgment, grief, and anger passing through his face. The mouth and eyes are the biggest tattlers.</p><p>Whatever deities are above must forgive him for making such a quick first impression, but this one is a completely open book. He knows, or can at least figure based on individual character alone, that every other witness would need a bit more time and thought to see it—if they even noticed it in the first place, that is. He won’t say anything about his thoughts, though. The curse of devotion, he daresay.</p><p>Right as the arm returns to normal, and Asta is unhanded, Yami reacts to something behind him. William and Acier, who are both close enough to him to notice right away, turn as well. Upon seeing what Yami had reacted to, he feels a type of dread rip through him that he hasn’t felt since his first near-death experience.</p><p>For nearly his entire life, William has prided on presenting himself as a calm, composed gentleman. He holds his shoulders straight and dignified. His posture never really falters. He doesn’t involve himself with anything vulgar, and generally presents himself to be attractively enigmatic. He smiles through almost anything, always does his best to be fair and respectful, and makes certain to be one step ahead at all times no matter what type of situation he’s in. The only people in this room at the current moment who have seen him troubled or disheveled outside of the battlefield are Julius and Yami.</p><p>This strange winter night has become the one time that everyone gets to witness William Vangeance lose his composure.</p><p>He stumbles back in shock, nearly tripping over his own heels. He bumps his backend into Julius, but he doesn’t remove himself. He doesn’t <em>want</em> to remove himself. In the back of his head, Patolli is cursing and shouting at William to run away. He won’t, though. He holds his ground enough because he knows that a majority of the fear snaking through his body is not his own.</p><p>Acier easily creates an impressive sword of steel from thin air, getting into a defensive stance as she puts herself between the apparition and the boy. Yami moves to draw his katana, but immediately lets go of its hilt. Surprise and uncertainty mars his face, though he disregards whatever had been off-putting and gets into a defensive stance.</p><p>Julius’ attention is caught when William basically presses to his side like velcro. He motions to Marx, and his right-hand-man gets to work. “Who are you?” he demands.</p><p>Patolli’s anger and fear is making his heart race and his breath fast. He can’t quite see straight. William isn’t sure what he could be looking at, nonetheless he can tell that the figure is of fairly average build. A male, perhaps? But his fingertips are sharp and jagged like knives. His limbs are much longer and far too slender for an average man, despite the human-like appearance. The only fleshy thing on this newcomer mocks a head-bust display; beyond the t-shirt collar, the rest of his body is a shadeless abyss. His hair is a very light shade that’s indescribable—the room is not light enough to tell. His horns are curled over his temples like a ram’s, and jagged jet-black lines draw themselves through his eyes, cheeks and sides of his throat. A third line follows the middle of his throat, but doesn’t touch his face. He has a very long tail that is flicking non-stop, and a pair of tattered wings.</p><p>An all-around intimidating fellow.</p><p>Funnily enough, William realizes, this devil also has no mana. He is invisible like Asta, who hasn’t any either—and that is most likely why this one has managed to get so close to so many high-level mages.</p><p>When Julius asks his question, the devil’s previously closed mouth stretches into a grin full of sharp teeth. But he doesn’t respond.</p><p>“You’re in the presence of some of the strongest mages in this region, devil,” Julius continues pointedly. “Be wise in your actions.”</p><p>“Ge-ge-ge,” the devil cackles. He raises an arm, and everyone tenses up, but he only points two fingers. One is aimed at Yami, and the other is aimed at William. “These two have it in their best interest to protect themselves well.”</p><p>William’s chest tightens. He feels Patolli’s fear stab at his fighting instincts.</p><p>
  <em>…it’ll kill us before we kill it, it’ll kill us before we kill it, it’ll kill us before we kill it, it’ll kill us before we kill it, it’ll kill us before we kill it, it’ll kill us before we kill it, it’ll ki—</em>
</p><p>“Is that a threat?” Acier snaps. Her voice drags him back to their very real situation.</p><p>The devil drops his grin and looks to his feet. Thorny vines are slithering around him, preparing to attack, but they’re withering away as soon as they’re within wing’s length. Something flickers in those menacing rubies, and his grin returns. “No,” he states, simple and straight to the point.</p><p>Julius points to the white displays. “Are you that devil?”</p><p>His eyes slide over to the screens. He studies them for a moment, quiet and observant, before he blinks once. He blinks only once, and it’s as if his entire personality became polarized. “So that’s what I look like to him!” he says lightly. His voice loses any previous malicious undertone, and the change takes every single person in earshot completely off guard.</p><p>William knows. He knows. He knows that he knows, but everyone else does not know. This one is a completely open book. Every motion he makes is a choice move, executed slow and steady as to not give a blatant reason to get attacked. This one is…strange for a devil, if the tales about them are true.</p><p>“Huh?” Yami suddenly bolsters his voice. He abandons his defensive stance and points a finger at the stranger. “Who the hell are you to just barge in here, you slender beanpole?”</p><p>“I didn’t barge in here!” he retorts. “You’re the only one who noticed me!”</p><p>“You gave me the creepies, how could I <em>not</em> notice you!” Yami, then, points to his sword. “Never mind that, though, what the hell did you do to my sword? It’s sucking my mana away! I can’t grab it!”</p><p>The devil cackles in his very strange and distinct way right then. Despite the misleading sound, though, he shrugs very casually. “I touched it,” he simply says.</p><p>“Why the hell are you touching my expensive ass sword, you bastard? Keep your kitchen knife fingers to yourself!”</p><p>“Shut up! You look like a meat balloon!” the devil claps back. “Your neck is thicker than your torso!”</p><p>“So what? I’ve got muscles! You’re just jealous ‘cause you look like a skeleton!”</p><p>William is…unsure of what to make of this. This devil is loud, rude, and a seemingly abrasive individual. He is brash, but bears no ill intent. If he interpreted the very first thing that the devil had said to them correctly, then he is confident that nothing bad will happen.</p><p>“Yami, <em>please</em>, stop arguing with the devil,” Acier says modestly. Her tense shoulders betrays her level voice, though.</p><p>Julius gently pushes against William’s back to give him fair warning. He moves away from the captain, and steps forward enough to present himself clearly. “From what we’ve seen so far,” he begins, “you’re a rather hostile entity that this boy here calls aniki.”</p><p>The devil tuts. “I’m not his aniki,” he snaps. “And I’m not hostile!”</p><p>Julius gives the devil a pained smile. William knows it all too well. The Wizard King is grimacing. “Is that so?”</p><p>“It <em>is</em> so!” the devil retorts with a mocking tone. “You guys are the hostile ones for kidnapping him!”</p><p>Loud, rude, abrasive, self-assertive, and extreme. That is William’s final serve for this one’s character.</p><p>“We ain’t kidnap anyone!” Yami exclaims. “The kid came willingly!”</p><p>Right then, instead of saying anything back, the devil begins to actually deride Yami’s person. He raises his elbows and keeps his forearms down, chest puffing up and chin raising high. His face twists to tighten his mouth line, and he theatrically furrows his brows. It’s the dramatic devil’s interpretation of Yami Sukehiro, face and all. For the first time in quite a while, all because of the devil’s kidology, William lets out a genuine laugh.</p><p>Everyone is staring at him in surprise and uncertainty.</p><p>“What the hell is so funny, Goldilocks? <em>Huh</em>?” Yami bites.</p><p>“His impersonation of you is quite humorous,” he states.</p><p>The boisterous foreigner gives the devil a second glance. The glance turns into a glare quickly enough, and Yami is seething. “Who the hell do you think you are—“</p><p>Julius suddenly being at Yami’s side silences the whole room even more, if that’s possible. His hand pats Yami’s overbearingly buff shoulder. Once again, he mediates. “Now, now, you two. We aren’t here to fight. We’re here to investigate.”</p><p>“You can just ask,” the devil blurts.</p><p>Cloudy amethysts meet vibrant garnets. A moment of silence acts as a buffer for a first judge of character between the two. Between the eyes, William can see a tight string. If anything were to break it, William feels that he would be put under fire for his actions. The demon doesn’t trust him, and Julius knows something is up.</p><p>A gross feeling bubbles up from his stomach just thinking of the outcomes a conversation like that would have.</p><p>“Would you have answered if we asked?” Julius inquires.</p><p>“Probably,” he replies. He drops all humor and begins to hold himself in a more serious manner.</p><p>“Was that you this morning?” Julius doesn’t waste a breath to ask. “I’m sure you know what I mean.”</p><p>The devil rubs his chin in careful thought, and stares. He hums, and a few seconds later, he snaps his fingers as if he found the answer to life. “Oh, I know! Asta met the tree man over there this morning.”</p><p>William knows his mask won’t show it, but his brow does raise. “Tree man” is the devil’s nickname for him.</p><p>“No, before that,” the Wizard King states. “It’d been full of hatred and power, and it was very threatening.”</p><p>With that description alone, nothing should be recognized. It’s too vague, but one can only hope he would know, right? William has been carefully watching the devil—the open book—and every exchanged word thus far has had <em>some</em> sort of measured reaction.</p><p>Julius’ description, however, gains absolutely nothing. William wouldn’t have thought anything of it, but the devil doesn’t look lost or confused. If this one is as easy to understand as he thinks, then he’s right to assume that the devil knows what they’re talking about.</p><p>“That wasn’t me,” he states.</p><p>“So there’s more devils out there…” Fuegoleon whispers behind William.</p><p>“I wonder if they’re all like this one,” Charlotte whispers back. “He seems very lively and immature like Yami.”</p><p>“Do you know what caused it, then?” Julius asks.</p><p>The devil juts a finger at the Wizard King and glares as he raises his voice. “I don’t know everything!” he exclaims. “I haven’t been out and about! This is my first little adventure in a hot ass minute.”</p><p>Julius serves his trademark pained smile. “I see.”</p><p>“What brought you out?” Acier interjects.</p><p>“Your poking and prodding,” he snaps. “It’s so…annoying.”</p><p>Years of engrained verbal and emotional abuse automatically figures out for William that all of the malice in the devil’s voice is his fault. Sound logic refutes that, but the nasty aftereffects of self-blame remain.</p><p>“My greatest apologies,” Julius says. The devil cocks a brow at that. “I…suppose that concludes the investig—“</p><p>A flurry of panicked cries and crashing sounds echoing outside of the interrogation room’s door interrupts Julius. Someone is punched, someone lets out a cry of pure, unadulterated fear, and some poor soul is thrown down the stairs. A fourth and final victim is used as a means of, literally, crashing in. The door hinges break like cheap metal, and the wood is splintered by the force. A womanly figure is standing in the broken entrance, though physical features don’t matter enough. Her mana and the fact that she has herself consumed in hungry orange flames is telling enough.</p><p>Fuegoleon is absolutely elated as soon as he realizes who it is. “Aneue!” he exclaims.</p><p>Blatantly, Mereoleona Vermillion ignores her younger brother. She marches up to William and grabs him by the collar without any regards to Acier’s hopeful expression and Julius’ pleasant astonishment. “I’m going to kill you!” she shouts in his face.</p><p>William feels the heat. It’s not hot enough to burn, but his helmet will be causing him discomfort if it continues. He doesn’t say anything, mostly because he doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. He only offers up a smile full of tight nerves.</p><p>“Yeesh, Goldilocks is taking some serious flak today,” Yami comments. “Anegoleon—“</p><p>She averts her intimidating gaze to the dark-haired man. “<em>You</em> are going to die first,” she fumes, each word emphasized with a loathsome voice.</p><p>Yami ducks behind Julius as the hairs on his arms stand straight up in fear of her wrath.</p><p>Julius, for the third time in the last ten or so minutes, takes on the job of middle man. Before he speaks, however, he motions for Marx to stop the invasive memory spell. “What a pleasure to see you again, Mereoleona,” he declares. The displays disappear. The room becomes dim. “What brings on such a hostile return?”</p><p>William feels her fists squeeze his cloak for a brief moment. They loosen when she speaks.</p><p>“I’m here because of your stupid goons,” she continues to teem. She leans in closer, nearly nose-to-nose with William.</p><p>He doesn’t fancy it. The heat is something he’s learning that he couldn’t care much for, but her proximity is beginning to get under his skin. He wordlessly grabs her hand, trying to find some peaceful way of reclaiming his personal space. Naturally, Mereoleona remains steadfast. Her grip doesn’t budge.</p><p>“They were under my direct orders,” Julius points out. “Please, calm down.”</p><p>“I said to back off! I have a handle on it!”</p><p>“A handle, you say?” The skepticism in his voice captures everyone’s feelings.</p><p>Mereoleona turns her glare to the time mage. He keeps a pained smile on, and Yami shrinks further back. When William looks over to the duo, he couldn’t help but notice that their supernatural visitor is absent. No one had noticed. “Where is the devil?” he voices loudly.</p><p>That distracts everyone in the group, though Mereoleona has a mixed expression of enraged confusion.</p><p>“What a sneaky bastard,” Yami grumbles.</p><p>“Can’t you sense his Ki?” Jack snaps, demanding usefulness.</p><p>“Shut up, beanpole! I’ve never had to detect or keep track of a devil’s Ki before!” Yami retorts.</p><p>Jack cackles as he tries to keep an upper-hand in this budding argument. “Isn’t it just extremely unique? Dumbass!”</p><p>“<em>You’re</em> one to talk, you can’t even detect Ki!”</p><p>“<em>Enough</em>!” Acier hollers. Her voice reaches every corner of the room. “That is <em>enough</em>! Stop this ridiculous arguing and focus on the problem at hand!”</p><p>Mereoleona’s flames finally disappear, but she still has William in her clutches.</p><p>Patolli’s persisting fear finally goes away when the devil’s absence is realized. The agitation and strain of having to deal with it stay, though, and furthers William’s discomfort. Of course, he keeps his composure…but he’ll be exhausted at the end of all of this.</p><p>“Aneue!” Fuegoleon wails. He takes the golden opportunity to tackle his big sister with an even bigger hug, ten years of undisclosed feelings from her absence flooding into it. His stern, humorless personality melts away in her presence. It’s a surprise to almost everyone in the room.</p><p>William remains distanced, Dorothy is still asleep, and Acier is smiling with tears in her eyes.</p><p>“You’re suffocating me,” Mereoleona states, though there isn’t a single sign of a struggle in her leveled voice. Her volume and attitude are completely different from before. Her face is turned down, too. Despite the hug, she still hasn’t let go of William.</p><p>“I haven’t heard from you in ten years, aneue, allow me to suffocate you this one time!”</p><p>She only tuts and turns her face away from Fuegoleon. She doesn’t resist the hug, though.</p><p>Julius turns to face the other half of the group with an actual smile. “Everyone may dismiss themselves,” he says, “but I ask that all of you collect your thoughts for a decision.”</p><p>Mereoleona’s glare returns. It implies accusatory statements, and she does open her mouth to voice them, but Acier stops her. “What is this decision?” the Silva inquires.</p><p>“It’s a simple one,” Julius states. “That’s for the next meeting, though.” His demeanor changes as soon as he says that. Sparkles twinkle in his eyes, round and full of happiness as he embraces Mereoleona from her other side. “Forget all of that for now. You’re back! M—our Mereo is back!”</p><p>William feels every inch of his mind screaming at his body to find a way to be let go, and to not be a part of this reunion. He doesn’t have the heart to actually do anything about it when he looks between Julius and Fuegoleon. Their faces are full of bliss. It doesn’t change his feelings, though. In fact, his discomfort begins to make a prominent show on his face when Acier decides to join by hooking her arms around both his and Mereoleona’s neck.</p><p>She laughs, and it’s so loud in his ear. He only turns his face away. “Ah, this is lovely!” she says. “It’s so good to see you, Mereoleona. I missed you. We <em>all</em> missed you.”</p><p>William can feel her fists tighten on his cloak, and from that alone he fully expects an outburst.</p><p>“…Thanks,” is what she utters instead. He is surprised, wondering what could get into Mereoleona Vermillion as to not cause a characteristically loud reaction. But his surprise disappears almost immediately after it appears when she begins shouting. <em>Again</em>. “Thank you for welcoming me back, but get the hell off of me!”</p><p>She finally lets go of William’s cloak as she uses her arms and elbows to rip off the three parasites.</p><p>“Aneue,” Fuegoleon says with a strong and confident voice, “you look much better than when I last saw you! Congratulations on a successful, emotionally healing journey!”</p><p>“S-shut your mouth, <em>Fueggy</em>!”</p><p>“I apologize, but I simply can not! I am far too pumped to be silent!”</p><p>“You haven’t changed one bit, buffoon!”</p><p>Julius laughs.</p><p>William lets a long awaited breath of fresh air push its way through his lungs. He steps back and sits himself down at the foot of the bed in relief. The tension in his shoulders begin to melt away, and when his arms feel safe enough to move, he flattens the wrinkles of his Golden Dawn cloak. What a bummer, he’ll have to fix that later…</p><p>“Too many wishy-washy feelings for ya, Goldilocks?”</p><p>William glances at Yami in silence, selectively blocking out the very spirited reunion between four old bonds. He sighs again. “No,” he lies. “She wrinkled my cloak, that is all.”</p><p>Yami points to said wrinkles. “<em>That</em>?”</p><p>William gestured to his cloak. “Yes, <em>this</em>.”</p><p>At his confirmation, Yami guffaws. His cigarette is nearly out of his mouth, and his other hand moves to hold his convulsing stomach. “T-those <em>wittle</em> wrinkles…”</p><p>His laughter is contagious enough to bring a quirked smile to William’s face. “I take care of my appearance, much unlike you.”</p><p>Yami simply continues to howl.</p><p>William lets it go on. It’s not a bother. He takes in his surroundings, though. Charlotte, Jack and Gueldre have since disappeared, a sleeping Dorothy is leering over Marx’s shoulder—much to his apparent dismay, but he respectfully doesn’t push her away—and Asta is still comfortably asleep. He finds humor in that; Asta is a heavy sleeper if he can remain knocked out through all of this commotion. That, or William had chopped the back of his head a little too hard.</p><p>“Let’s go out! All of us!” Acier exclaims excitedly. “We need to celebrate your return tonight, Mereoleona!”</p><p>“H-huh? I-it’s not <em>that</em> exciting!” Mereoleona flusters, though going by the sound of her voice, she is happy. “I’m…I’m not staying the night!”</p><p>Acier gently pinches her disciple’s cheek. “Don’t stress the details too much, love. This is a reunion!”</p><p>Fuegoleon nods firmly and happily, crossing his arms. “Not to mention, my dear aneue, you still have yet to meet your baby brother.”</p><p>William watches mirthfully as her face twists in begrudging acceptance at that fact. He doesn’t know the Vermillion family and their situation enough to cause such a distance between the eldest and the youngest. What he does know, however, is that little Leopold has grown up through the first ten years of his life raised and mentored by Fuegoleon, and Fuegoleon only. Mereoleona is just a story.</p><p>“That settles it, then,” Julius concludes. “I’ll pull some quick strings, and we’ll feast on sea food tonight!” He ignores the sounds of protest as he looks over to Yami, William, Dorothy and Marx. “You guys should come, too. After we wrap things up, of course.”</p><p>When William turns his face over his shoulder, he finds that Julius’ attendant doesn’t look thrilled in the least bit. “We’re gonna celebrate after all of <em>this</em>?” Marx asks as he gestures to Asta.</p><p>“Yes!”</p><p>“That isn’t acceptable, Lord Julius! This is a big problem!”</p><p>“It’s a problem that the me in twelve hours can handle!” Julius points out jubilantly.</p><p>William interjects. “I can look out for Asta tonight.”</p><p>Instantly, Mereoleona’s volume blasts his ear drums. “Absolutely not! Someone else do it!”</p><p>He turns to her and challenges her glare. “I’m available enough to oversee his stay,” he points out. “Besides, he needs to be watched when he sleeps. His throat is too unstable.”</p><p>“Thank you, Will, I appreciate your wonderful initiative!” Acier tells him. Without waiting for a response, she grabs Mereoleona and Julius by the wrists and begins to march out of the room. “Come along, Fueggy! Let’s drag Leopold and Noelle out of bed. And you should join us, too, Yami.”</p><p>“M-<em>me</em>?” Yami sounds disbelieving of her invitation.</p><p>“Yes, you! Come on!”</p><p>“Mm…alright.”</p><p>The five of them clear out after that mumble. Dorothy follows, but William and Marx stay in their spots. Marx glances to the remaining captain questioningly as he says, “You seem to have a soft spot for Asta already.”</p><p>“Hm…I suppose so.” William ponders on it. He didn’t think he would be investing so much thoughtful energy in a kid with no mana, yet here he is ready to sacrifice a much needed night of sleep to act as a guardian. “I understand feeling wounded and overwhelmed, though. This whole situation is scary for a kid like him.”</p><p>“You aren’t wrong,” Marx agrees. “I’m glad you brought him knocked out. Reliving that injury would have been no good for his health.”</p><p>William lets out a genuine smile hearing that. Because, sometimes, he dearly wishes his desire to no longer feel alone would just disappear. It’s as strong as his dear wish for his astute observation to be more understood—but at the end of the day wishes are just fickle thoughts. The connections he shares with those around him, no matter how one-sided they are, belittle those thoughts. “You’re probably the only one who sympathizes with me on that.”</p><p>“Most likely,” Marx says. “There’s no room for trauma in this lifestyle, as unfortunate as that is.”</p><p>William only hums.</p><p>Marx snaps his grimoire shut right then. He tucks it away and begins an exiting strut. “Do you need anything of me before I leave?”</p><p>“If you could get Dr. Owen to visit my squadron barracks within the next day, or his next possible chance, I would greatly appreciate it,” William states. “Tell him that this boy’s vocal chords and esophagus have been damaged and improperly attended to for the past three or so days.”</p><p>Marx doesn’t stop walking. “Very well. I’ll pass on the message.”</p><p>His cloak disappearing around the splintered door is the only farewell that William receives. He is left alone in his own exhaustion, and with a wheezing child.</p><p>He doesn’t need that much sleep, anyways.</p><hr/><p>A flash of white had been the last thing he’d seen. A grunting sound from his own throat had been the last thing he’d heard. An arm catching his falling body had been the last thing he’d felt.</p><p>Yuno, upon awakening from that forced slumber, jolts with a rush of adrenalin. He scrambles to his feet as he breathes in heavily, and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. It’s freezing cold, his cheeks are numb, but there is a reassuring glow of warmth and a bundle of orange fur at his feet. His face slackens as he realizes where he is: Underneath Hage’s skull, next to a camp fire, in the very same area that he’d torn up.</p><p>“You’re finally awake, eh? Took you long enough.”</p><p>He turns his face to the right. Mereoleona is sitting on a split rock, her arms crossed and her face solemn. “M-Ms Mereoleona…” he drawls. He feels an intense amount of confusion as his awareness of his situation becomes stronger. “Why am I here?”</p><p>“I found you and Sister Lily knocked out in your Father’s bedroom,” she states. “You weren’t harmed, but—“</p><p>Yuno explodes immediately. Pent up anger of the whole emotional spectrum floods his head. “It was William!” he shouts. “It was that stupid William!”</p><p>Mereoleona uncrosses her arms in interest. “William?”</p><p>“Yes! He was going to take Asta to the royal capital ‘cause he thinks there’s something evil in him, and I told him no!”</p><p>“Why did you tell him no?”</p><p>“Because! Asta isn’t evil!” Yuno exclaims. He’s breathing hard, white huffs and puffs billowing out with each breath. In the long moment of silence, he swallows and recollects a normal breathing pattern.</p><p>She stands up. “And then what happened?”</p><p>“Some big oaf bastard showed up from this sparkly circle,” Yuno explains. He’s slowly regaining his composure, but his tone is still angry. “I kept telling them…they can’t take Asta away. He isn’t evil. He’s stupid and hurt, that’s it!”</p><p>Mereoleona watches him with a keen look in her eyes that he doesn’t understand. He can’t explain it, either, but the fire is shining in her face. They flicker against and elongate the shadows that are cast, and for a moment Yuno finds himself staring in admiration. He is grounded when she finally speaks, though. “When did you get knocked out? Did you watch them take Asta?”</p><p>“The sun…the sun was starting to set,” he recalls. “So…late afternoon? Asta was resting in the back room, and I haven’t seen him since Sister Lily took him inside the church…”</p><p>Mereoleona is glaring. Not at him, but in his general direction. Suddenly, but maybe not surprisingly, she becomes encompassed by her own mana’s flames. “I’m going to kill them!” she exclaims. “Those men and their thick skulls! I can’t <em>believe</em> their audacity, stepping on my fucking toes <em>again</em>!”</p><p>Yuno stares in surprise. “K-<em>kill</em> them?” he stutters. “Isn’t that a crime?”</p><p>He yelps when a large lion paw made of her outline flames grabs his head and effortlessly pulls him off the ground. A second paw shoves the orange fur skin that’d been at his feet into his hands. Mereoleona lets out a bellowing roar of anger, and the flames grow in size. “Are you ready, toothpick!” she yells. “We’re leaving for the royal capital right now!”</p><p>“R-right now?” he cries. “I-I can’t just leave like—“</p><p>The lion paw grabbing his head pulls him up to her face, and they’re nose-to-nose. “Weakling!” she shouts. “Asta is in the royal capital! Are you saying you’re prepared to leave him there?! Where’s your spirit, boy!”</p><p>“<em>No</em>! Never!” Yuno shouts back.</p><p>Mereoleona lets out a long bout of laughter that makes her entire upper body move. “I like the look in your eyes!” she proclaims. “Wrap yourself up, toothpick! And hold on tight!”</p><p>Without questioning it, too pumped with determination, Yuno wraps the fur around his shoulders and holds on as tightly as he could without hurting his arm. He braces for whatever Mereoleona is about to do—but jumping high and pushing herself further up into the sky is not what he had expected. He makes a giddy sound that is very quickly drowned out by the howling sound of icy winter air being cut through when she takes flight.</p><p>Wide, amber eyes stare in amazement. He has no clue how this works, but he can feel the mana in the air pulling them along. The movement of the magic is like boat paddles getting reverse-rowed in water, but the paddle is the mana and they’re the water. It genuinely makes him wonder if this is what it’s like to be a mage with a grimoire.</p><p>It’s <em>breathtaking</em>.</p><p>“Close your mouth, kid! You’re gonna catch some bugs!” Mereoleona mirthfully calls.</p><p>He quickly snaps his mouth shut, blinking the water out of his eyes as the wind dries his face. It’s too dark to see anything much beyond the horizon, but to be able to be above the tops of the trees…</p><p>He can’t find the words for it.</p><p>“Ms Mereoleona!” he says loudly. “How are you doing this? Is it a spell?”</p><p>She genuinely laughs as if he’d said a joke. He tilts his head in confusion, but waits for it to end. When she finishes laughing, she speaks. “This ain’t a spell, kid,” she explains. “This is just natural mana manipulation!”</p><p>If a child’s totally enamored awe and amazement could get any bigger, Yuno knows he would be the equivalent to the full moon.</p><p>“You like it?” Mereoleona asks. He nods with wide eyes. “You wanna learn it?” He nods faster, with even wider eyes. It makes the woman chuckle. “I’ll teach it to you someday!”</p><p>“Y-you will?” he asks, flabbergasted at the offer. “You’ll teach me natural mana manipulation?”</p><p>She turns her head back with a toothy grin that lifts her cheeks high and gives her a creepy ambitious look. “I can teach you a lot of things, kid.”</p><p>Yuno is uncertain of what to make of her face, but her words chokes him up with disbelief. “U-um…are y-you offering to teach <em>me</em>?” he stammers. “To take me as your student…?”</p><p>“Yes! What else could I be implying? Ha! What a look on your face. Are you too scared to be my apprentice?”</p><p>Yuno shakes his head. “No! I’ll take it! Please let me be your student, Ms Mereoleona!”</p><p>She says nothing. Her face turns forward once again, but Yuno can see that there is still a big enough of a smile. He shares that big smile, too.</p><p>The rest of the way is flown in silence. Yuno is taking in the scenery, looking down at the tree tops when there’s forests, the rooftops when there’s a village, the flat land when there’s farms or acres worth of ranches, and the marshy brush when there’s swamps. His eyes can’t handle taking direct wind well before they reach the Common Realm, and he ends up having to keep his face pointed either down or to the sides. Their speed never relents, and the howls of the winter wind becomes akin to the background noise Asta would make while doing the harder labors of chores. Remembering the tunes he would idly hum saddens Yuno, but he makes certain to use that feeling as a form of motivation instead of a dampener.</p><p>“Look ahead, kid! It’s the capital!”</p><p>Yuno squints against the wind, and to his astonishment, he could see the hill-like city glowing against the dark evening. There’s not a light in sight that is out, and even from so far away he could just feel the refined mana of Magic Knights roaming the streets. As they fly closer, he could feel large amounts of magical energy within individuals towards the center of the city—at the castle-like peak. “Wow…” he murmurs.</p><p>Mereoleona doesn’t say anything. She makes it a point to fly low, never going beyond a certain height, but Yuno couldn’t bother to ask why. His attention is too captivated by the buzzing streets, alive with hundreds of well-dressed people and not a patch of dirt in sight. Everything is built out of stone, wood, cement, or some other hard material. There are also some variously shaped clearings throughout the parts of the capital that have circular, water-spitting stone posts and are surrounded by what Yuno assumes to be street vendors. There’s so much light, too. He couldn’t get over that small detail. In Hage, when it’s dark, the moon and stars become the light. A fire mage can use their element to illuminate their way, but besides that…the dark is the dark.</p><p>The royal capital clearly doesn’t make any mind of the dark.</p><p>Yuno turns to look at Mereoleona once the busiest part of the city is passed, but he makes a sound of surprise when he sees that they’re headed straight for a castle window. There’s no signs of stopping. With that in mind, he quickly covers his face with the orange animal skin, and a single second later, there is the shrill cry of shattering glass. He expects to hit another surface, maybe a wall or the floor, but he only feels his body swing in the air. The lion paw is still latched onto the top of his head.</p><p>When he peaks out of the animal skin, Mereoleona is moving to stand from a low stance. As soon as she’s on her feet, the flames surrounding her become even bigger. He can’t help but wonder if that’s even possible. He feels incredibly small and timid hanging out in the middle of it all, so he tucks his face back into the animal skin. However, he does make sure he can watch the entertainment—or, to blandly put it, the imploding fire disaster known as Ms Mereoleona.</p><p>“<em>Where</em> can I find Wizard King <em>Julius Novachrono</em> and Captain <em>Yami Sukehiro</em>!” she hollers. Her overbearingly loud voice shakes Yuno’s ear drums; it makes him feel sarcastically confident that her words are loud and clear for all to hear. “You there! Where are they?”</p><p>“L-Lady Mereoleona, what are you—“</p><p>“Don’t you dare try to ignore my demands!” she shouts. The poor royal attendant tries to scramble away, but the collar of his fancy shirt is grabbed. She pulls his significantly smaller figure close, almost touching noses, as she booms her demand in his face. “<em>Where</em> can I find Wizard King <em>Julius Novachrono</em> and Captain <em>Yami Sukehiro</em>? Huh? Tell me!”</p><p>“I-I-I—“</p><p>“Don’t stutter, coward!”</p><p>“I-I apologize! B-but I do not know where the Lord Julius and t-the Sir Sukehiro are—<em>ack</em>!”</p><p>She doesn’t hesitate to throw him to the ground. “You aren’t useful to me! Who can tell me?”</p><p>The royal attendant sputters, trying his best to get himself together. It’s very obvious that he’s failing even though Mereoleona is simply waiting for an answer. Right before she makes another aggressive demand, the door that the royal attendant had, probably, been standing by gets swung open.</p><p>Yuno expects the person to be as equally angry and rambunctious as Mereoleona, given the way the door had basically been yanked open, but to his surprise there is a plainly well-dressed man standing there. At first his expression is dark and belittling, but then he sees who the source of the ruckus is. The previously held-together composure breaks down almost completely.</p><p>Mereoleona juts a finger at the surprised man. “Nozel Silva!” she shouts. “Where can I find Wizard King Julius Novachrono and Captain Yami Sukehiro!”</p><p>The man, Nozel Silva, immediately snaps back to a more prideful means of self-presentation. At least that’s what Yuno thinks he tries to do—the braid that goes straight down the middle of his forehead looks too ridiculous. “Why do you search for them?” he asks. His voice is tight and guarded against her surprise appearance.</p><p>“That’s none of your business, mama’s boy! Answer my question!”</p><p>Nozel rolls his eyes at the insult, but he doesn’t say anything back. “Don’t go shouting so late in the evening,” he lectures, “and put the small child down.”</p><p>Yuno doesn’t speak a word of protest. He can’t say he’s enjoying this, but Mereoleona’s general aura and the vicinity around it mutes any feeling of discomfort.</p><p>“The child is fine!” Mereoleona snaps.</p><p>Nozel only tuts to that, but continues to answer her demand. “They’re down under,” he states.</p><p>“Where—“</p><p>“The interrogation room,” he cuts shortly. “Have a good evening.”</p><p>Yuno winces upon hearing that. Were they torturing him? Asta isn’t evil, he doesn’t deserve that…</p><p>The door slams shut, and the royal attendant makes a grim face. Mereoleona doesn’t react to any of it, though. She simply hops up into the air using the mana manipulation technique from before, and she zooms down the long, elegant hallway. Everything is too blurry for Yuno to see, but he can tell that this place isn’t meant for his dirty, tattered clothes. Too big, too clean, too bright, but magnificent to say the least.</p><p>Yuno is finally set down when they reach a big, wooden doorway. “Is…is this the interrogation room?” he asks nervously.</p><p>Mereoleona gives him an unquestionably serious glance. “Stay here.”</p><p>“No! Let me go with—“</p><p>Her glance becomes a glare that promises a lot of scary things he can only imagine, but he shuts his mouth tight as soon as their eyes meet. “That was an order,” she says.</p><p>“Why can’t I go?” he asks.</p><p>“You can go when I tell you.” It’s the only response he can get from Mereoleona about the whole situation before she uses her monstrous leg strength to beat the door down.</p><p>“Who goes ther—L-Lady Mereoleona!” The man, who is standing behind another taller man, is thrown aside with a backhand of her lion’s paw.</p><p>They both let out cries of alarm, and another person that Yuno can’t see is ruthlessly punched into oblivion. Or that’s what he thinks happened. He’s beginning to believe that Mereoleona isn’t the merciful type. A tumbling sound is followed a quick few seconds later—one he’s sure that can’t be any good for a person—and a wail of fear echoes out into the hallway as another victim is attacked. One more crashing sound resonates within the stone walls of the spiraling staircase, and that’s when Yuno begins to lean in.</p><p>“Aneue!”</p><p>“I’m going to kill you!”</p><p>His imagination starts to go wild when she shouts. She might punch someone so hard, they break their jaw…or their neck…or maybe they get punched so hard their head falls off. The violent imagery makes Yuno grimace, and if it really is that brutal, then he knows he can appreciate being left up above.</p><p>Alas—or maybe thankfully—he can only hear talking.</p><p>He leans his ear in a little closer, just about ready to teeter into the stone hallway, but a hand grabs his upper forearm very harshly. He quickly turns around, ready to be as harsh as the grip, but it becomes apparent that it would be entirely futile.</p><p>He’s nose-to-nose with a pasty white face, rubies against the darkest of sclera. He opens his mouth to react, but the man—<em>the man has horns that is no man he couldn’t be</em>—slaps a pitch-black hand over Yuno’s mouth.</p><p>“Shh…” the stranger whispers.</p><p>Yuno admits that he feels terrified right now. He feels the grips tighten as he begins to struggle, but it’s all helplessly disregarded as he gets pulled away from the entrance of the interrogation room.</p><p>The last voice he hears broadly echo from the spiraling stairs say is, “Where is the devil?”</p><p><em>Oh</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>rare pair hell rare pair hell rare pair hell rare pair hell rare pair hell rare pair hell</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. genesis</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>yayyy!! a new update :)</p><p>this is a pretty big chapter compared to the last 4. it's for a good reason, u'll see why when ur at the end. ive also decided that ill be updating the tags w each chapter update, and only the most relevant/frequent characters and rare pairs would be tagged.</p><p>there's also some art of mine that i would like to share w fellow black clover lovers! it IS mine, so PLEASE ask if to use/repost. the prntscrn link is attached to the very first word of the chapter.</p><p>as always, tho, enjoy!</p><p>wc: 11.4k ish or smnthng</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p></p><blockquote>
  <p><strong><a href="https://prntscr.com/vl6yzq">genesis</a></strong>—(n.) <em>an origin story; the beginning of a long journey. there was a reason he never knew he needed here to be found in the royal capital, but he supposes it’s a start…no matter how nasty and gruesome it is.</em></p>
</blockquote><hr/><p>Asta is alone.</p><p>In this big, empty space, he is alone. He feels afraid of it—no one else is here to talk to him, to fill in the space, to be his company. Where is Liebe? His demonic doppelgänger has always been here, so where is he now? He can’t stop wondering and hoping, and right when he feels sure that he’s stuck here, forever alone, a hand grabs his shoulder.</p><p>He winces at the heavy yet familiar touch, and quickly turns around. His face brightens considerably as all negativities plaguing his mind disappear immediately. “Aniki!” he greets. “Where have you been?”</p><p>Liebe tuts and pulls his arm away. “I’ve been dealing with your stupid Magic Knight situation,” he snaps. “You trust too easily. Don’t do that.”</p><p>Asta pouts. “Don’t talk like that,” he berates. “They’re friendly.”</p><p>“Whatever!” Liebe shouts. He glares those menacing red eyes at him, but it’s not particularly strong. At least not compared to his previous glares. “They’re…they’re not gonna kill you. I’m confident enough on that, but—still, be careful. They don’t trust us.”</p><p>“Us?”</p><p>“Yes, Asta, <em>us</em>.”</p><p>“…You and me?”</p><p>“Yes! What the hell is so hard to understand about that, huh?”</p><p>Asta gapes at him for a few quick moments before he shakes his head. “N-nothing! I just…I just didn’t think you would be so quick to be okay with them!”</p><p>Liebe’s displeased demeanor melts into slight surprise at the realization, because Asta is right to a certain degree. The Magic Knights that he knows are cruel, judgmental, and only care about how they’re portrayed. Some of the ones he had confronted are bit more…open-minded. He doesn’t let his unguarded expression show for too long, though. He crosses his arms, turns his nose away, and flicks his tail. “Hmph,” he grunts. “Whatever. Only one of them did the work to change my mind enough. Don’t get your hopes up.”</p><p>Asta grins regardless. “That’s good, though!” he exclaims happily. “It’s better than none!”</p><p>The devil says nothing.</p><p>“I hope you and I can be good friends with them,” he continues. He can feel delight blooming tenfold in the middle of his chest. Just like how water would drench his whole body, the giddiness of the feeling washes over him and reaches each toe, each finger, and each tip of his ear. He glances up to Liebe and feels some of it wilt when he notices the expression his demonic doppelgänger wears. “What’s wrong, aniki?”</p><p>Liebe’s brow is creased, his mouth is pressed into a frown, and he’s staring aloofly. “Hm?” He sounds incredibly absentminded.</p><p>“Um…I asked what’s wrong…?” Asta reaches out, but his hand is slapped away. He glares. “Meanie.”</p><p>“Just go and wake up,” Liebe says solemnly. “I’ll be able to join you in the real world whenever. If you wanna talk without sleeping, just call my name. I’ll answer.”</p><p>Asta is practically glowing when he hears those promised words. “Thank you, aniki!”</p><p>“Yup. Now go away,” he says shortly.</p><p>Asta doesn’t even need to blink; the abyss and Liebe are gone from his face as if they were never interacting in the first place, and he’s opening his eyes to a dark, stone ceiling. But…that can’t be right. He’s in the royal capital, isn’t he? There’s supposed to be bright rooms, clean walls, soft carpets, nice chairs…</p><p>“Oh, I see that you’re awake.”</p><p>Asta blinks again, the drowsiness receding as he lifts his head a little too fast. He grimaces at the sudden wooziness that slams him, and his hand shoots up to the back of his skull. Regardless, he sits up enough to lean on his elbow. When the pain-induced dizziness finally melts away, and his eyes adjust to the dimness of the room, he finally sees who his company is. He feels his face lift a great deal even though his throat hurts and the back of his head aches. He smiles brightly.</p><p>William politely returns the smile. “Are you feeling alright?”</p><p>Asta pushes himself to sit completely upright. Although he nods, it’s distracted. He begins to recall the moments before blacking out, and he frowns a little. Gently, he touches the back of his head again. It’s tender and will definitely throb if his blood flows fast enough.</p><p>“Does it hurt?” William asks. Asta shakes his head. “I see. That’s good. I would like to apologize, though.”</p><p>Asta tilts his face curiously. What could there be to apologize about?</p><p>The Magic Knight points to the hand that’s on the back of his head. His aloof, polite expression remains strong despite his words. “I hit the back of your head to knock you out,” he explains. Asta gives a look of alarm and confusion. “Yes. You’re wondering why I would do that. To put it plainly, Asta, we had to review your memories to get a clear, unbiased version of what has been happening to you.”</p><p>A lump forms in his throat, heavy and stuck like a stone in frozen dirt. Will they lock him away because of Liebe? He won’t be executed, that’s what he’s been told, but surely they’ve made a decision.</p><p>His nerves are buried under a jolt of pain as he tries to swallow the swelling ball in his throat. He struggles to keep his body from coughing up anything that has decided to make itself at home in his neck, and he has to cover his mouth to be able to fully resist it. His breath becomes ragged and wet the very moment that he finally wins the battle. When he feels safe to do so, he lets a tense breath of air gently flow through his throat. Where is that doctor William had been talking about? He would have been seen by now, right? Unless…unless Liebe had been right about the lies.</p><p>William puts a hand on top of his head, awkward and stiff in the movement but gentle and kind in its touch. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I do hope you can forgive me. I simply did not want you to relive the memories of your throat getting hurt again.”</p><p>Asta feels a pit open in his stomach as dread and phantom flashes of pain flicker through his body. It’s such a muddy memory, now…yet that one moment where he could breathe everything but air, the one stupid thing he needs, haunts him. He can’t eat as much as before, he can’t drink as fast as before, he can’t be outside for too long to play with Yuno or to help with Sister Lily’s chores, he can’t even swallow his own nerves without tasting hot iron and feeling glass shards. He hates his condition so, <em>so</em> much, and, if he could, he would scream in all of his exasperation and frustration.</p><p>“You’ll be alright,” William assures. His well-mannered but assertive voice cuts into Asta’s despairing thoughts, deep enough to put them to a complete stop. The ickiness remains, though. “The doctor I told you about should be able to see you soon. In the meantime, though, we do have a few options…”</p><p>Asta sniffles. He isn’t sure if that’s what stops William from starting his list. What he does know for sure is that his face is hot, his mouth is slimy, and his eyesight is watery.</p><p>“Why are you crying? Did I say something wrong, or…” Once again, William trails off with uncertainty.</p><p>Asta frowns intensely, trying his best not to let the apparent crying continue. But the feeling of frustration is overpowering, and he can’t dig himself out of this hole. He does his best to fight against it, hammering all of it down back to the depths of his heart, and then…it all comes to be in vain. William doesn’t bother speaking. He simply pulls Asta into a side hug. The man is still incredibly stiff and very uncomfortable, Asta can tell with the lacking flexibility a hug would usually have. Still yet, he’s trying. That’s what matters.</p><p>Tears flow freely. His shoulders shake relentlessly. He buries his face into William’s side hesitantly. The comfort arrives gradually, though, and Asta melts into it like a baby. He feels safe here. It’s not like Hage is a bad home—he loves it there, and also feels safe with his little foster family, but in this strange, dark place in the middle of the strange concept called the royal capital, William is <em>safe</em>.</p><p>“Do…do you feel better now?” William asks when, eventually, his shoulders stop shaking and his tears stop flowing. Asta hadn’t a clue as to how long he let himself cry, but hearing that question steels his spirit. He peels away and sniffs. “You’ve been through a lot these past few days. It’s alright to cry.”</p><p>He wipes his tears off his cheeks and sniffs again, though this time he makes certain that the biggest globs of snot don’t stay. He smacks his lips and barely manages to swallow without much problem, and he sighs in relief without ever actually realizing it.</p><p>“Would you like to go to a little party?” William suddenly asks.</p><p>Asta looks at him in uncertainty and surprise at the spur-of-a-moment offer.</p><p>William smiles again. “You know Mereoleona, don’t you? She hasn’t been in the capital for ten years, but she came back tonight for you. Her family and friends took the chance to celebrate her return.”</p><p>His eyes blow wide. Ms Mereoleona traveled all the way from Hage for <em>him</em>? That feels…inconceivable.</p><p>“Would you like to go?”</p><p>Eagerly, he nods. He would love to see and thank Mereoleona for making such an unnecessary trek—but a party sounds like the best possible option. He’s never been to one. The kind of party that he knows involves two reused candles, tatoes, water, and a rare October cake that the Father and Sister worked so hard to get that one time. But it’s always joyous; there’s never a down moment in a party, and the cause of celebration is the focus. He sees William move to stand up, but he beats the Magic Knight in the race of whose feet would hit the ground first. He’s buzzing in his skin with exhilaration now. He jumps up and down on his feet, grinning and polarizing his entire demeanor.</p><p>William chuckles. “Excited, are you?”</p><p>Again, he nods. His eyes are still swollen, and his nose is still stuffy, but that doesn’t stop him from this giddiness. His toes are strained resisting the urge to continue jumping around; his cheeks are beginning to ache with the amount of uncontainable enthusiasm. William, bemused by pureness of the sight, doesn’t say anything. He only walks out of the room with a vibrating duckling in tow.</p><hr/><p>The day has been ridiculously <em>long</em>. Almost insufferably <em>long</em>. From the ass crack of dawn to the darkest fucking evening Yami’s ever seen in a hot minute—but looking outside he can see that the moon is rising…the moon doesn’t rise in the evening. It’s night time, so it’s been <em>two</em> goddamn days. He can’t handle this royal capital business crap anymore.</p><p>God, does he have to take the biggest dump ever.</p><p>Regardless of how stupidly long the last exaggerated two days day have been, he can admit that he never once expected to meet a peasant child with a royal-like amount of mana and another peasant child with absolutely no mana. None. Nada. Zilch. The kid is a desert. An abyss. He’s invisible. Not to mention, he’s mute. That’s just the sprinkle on top of being invisible to mana sensory. On top of all of that, he never once expected to meet a devil. And on top of all of <em>that</em>, he <em>especially</em> never expected to see Mereoleona Vermillion back in the royal capital.</p><p>Julius is…happy. It’s painfully obvious just how happy he is. He’s in genuinely high spirits, and his upbeat demeanor doesn’t disappear once during the quickest preparations possible for an oceanic feast and celebration.</p><p>Yami hasn’t seen him this happy in literal years. Equally, however, there has never been a true moment where Julius Novachrono has been as depressed as he’d been when Mereoleona left without any sort of farewell a decade ago. A part of Yami couldn’t forgive her for doing that—and he still hasn’t, even though Julius has—because, yeah the whole situation was shitty and hurtful, but Mereoleona hadn’t been the only one suffering.</p><p>“Yo, Julius,” Yami calls. He’s standing in the middle of the smallest ballroom he’s ever seen, hands stuffed in his pockets and a burning cigarette hanging from his lips. “You’re gonna break your face if you keep up with that creepy ass smile of yours.”</p><p>Julius laughs, trotting up to his protégé and hooking an arm around Yami’s neck. He’s stupidly content to the moon and back. “What, I can’t help it! Mereo is back!”</p><p>Yami watches as the called-in workers rush to put mobile standing tables, mobile buffet tables, and assorted alcohol out. His mouth waters a little bit at the thought of getting drunk. “Yes, yes,” he drawls in a dry, sarcastic tone. “Your wifey is back…<em>omedetō, Julius-sama</em>.”</p><p>“I haven’t a clue what that means! But thank you!” he exclaims, selectively ignoring his old friend’s irony. He giggles out of the pureness of his excitement, clearly unable to contain himself.</p><p>“It’s just my mother tongue for congrats,” Yami pans. The jubilance outshines his mutter, though, and continues to be a metaphorically blinding sight to see. He doesn’t comment on it. If the parasite latched onto his shoulder were to be anyone else, he would’ve told them to fuck off by now. However, not only is this annoying idiot Julius, he’s almost <em>way</em> too on top of a high horse for his rudeness to even be remotely bothersome. “Anyways, are ya sure it was alright to just leave Will like that with the devil kid?”</p><p>“His name is Asta. <em>As-ta</em>,” Julius corrects. He wags a finger with each spoken syllable to emphasize that the devil kid has a name. He still hasn’t lost an ounce of his giddiness. “And yes. I trust William to take charge of an injured child. You, on the other hand, I would <em>never</em> trust with an injured child!”</p><p>Yami makes an offended sound of protest. “I would do perfectly fine!” he challenges.</p><p>Julius guffaws when he hears that. “I don’t believe that for a second! It’s alright, though, Yami! Children aren’t meant for everyone, injured or not.”</p><p>He doesn’t say anything to the Wizard King’s statement. He just tuts and turns his face away. He holds a momentary grudge against Julius for saying that aloud. It is true, though. He isn’t fit to be a child’s company—too impatient, too vulgar, too violent, too irrational, and not to mention the amount of cigarettes he goes through in a day. He certainly has a soft spot for human spawns, and he knows to be especially gentle with the little ones. He’s just too much of a brute to be anything beyond a distant father figure or an uncle.</p><p>Mereoleona left…oh, when is it? Right now, it’s late November. That hard-nosed queen quietly disappeared like a barn owl sometime in early December. So, technically, she’s only been gone for nine years—but it’s close enough to a decade by now that it just doesn’t matter. The first handful of years she’d been gone was grueling and lonely for Julius. Yami has brought up his anger countless times, and William hadn’t an ounce of benevolence in his voice when he’d repeatedly admonish him to be respectful in her absence. However, before all of those feelings changed their opinion of Mereoleona, he had been entirely prepared to handle a little one.</p><p>For three sketchy yet joyous months around nine years ago, Yami Sukehiro had <em>actually</em> used his head enough to read on how to handle a newborn baby.</p><p>The anticipation had been incredible. Their weirdly curious, amazingly respected, father-figure squadron captain would actually be a dad. Wide eyes, faint hearts and rosy cheeks had been the varying responses when the news had been shared. Mereoleona had been genuinely laughing at the three stooges of the Grey Deer squadron, calling out a typically stoic William, a typically rude Yami, and a typically bright Nacht on their flustered reactions.</p><p>He fondly remembers sliding Owen’s lended material over to William in a very discreet manner, too. The Shiny Gold Masked Man had been scared out of his mind handling a child, because they all knew they would be there for its then-to-be birth. The quickly pilling stress had melted away into a chipper look of pure appreciation and relief of being gifted educational hand-me-down books; it had been a blessing to witness. Nacht and Yami each had their share of drunken laughs recalling that story on every Thursday they both had off, and William was always incredibly embarrassed to be loudly reminded whenever he could join their bar-hopping days.</p><p>“Ah…this is nice, though,” Julius suddenly says. His stare casts a jovial shadow over the bustling room. “Everyone’s come so far in the last two decades.”</p><p>Yami grunts in agreement. “‘Specially you, Mr Wizard King.”</p><p>“Oh, <em>stop</em>! You’re gonna make me blush!” Julius sarcastically frets.</p><p>“I bet you’re gonna be doin’ a lotta that tonight if things go well.”</p><p>“Y-Yami…! Please, be modest…”</p><p>Yami chuckles and takes one last drag of his cigarette. “Ash tray?”</p><p>“There’s a temp can over there,” Julius states. He points to the furthest corner in the room.</p><p>“Uh, are you sure that you’re okay with me putting a lit cigarette into the temporary trash can of your highly esteemed—“</p><p>“Ash it on the can, silly!”</p><p>Yami only hums mirthfully as he walks away. Julius basically begins to prance around pestering the rushed workers to see if they needed any help, but Yami taps out of those series of conversations without a second thought. He wanders over to the big window doors that lead out to a generous balcony. He opens it, but never closes, and finds that he regrets stepping outside. But, for the sake of peace and quiet, he stays and enjoys another smoke.</p><p>There’s a gentle winter breeze that siphons the warmth out of his arms; it doesn’t take quite enough from him for a shiver. The stars are out for the most part, but the light of the royal capital gives the sky too much of a wash for it to be admired. The moon, however, is out in all of its shining glory. Yami has no clue what kinda shapes happen in a moon’s cycle, but tonight it’s one thick ass crescent.</p><p>“Mr. Yami!”</p><p>He turns his head over his shoulder to see who the pipsqueak is, though he had a nagging idea before turning just going by the voice. “Oh<em>o</em>! Well, now, if it isn’t the little hard-nosed prince!”</p><p>Leopold Vermillion, sporting a nasty French braid, royal pajama attire and a toothy grin, tackles Yami’s waist with a big hug. He’s only latched on for a second, though. As soon as the comfortably brief hug is done, the little hard-nosed prince is ready to tell a million stories. “Hey, Mr. Yami! Guess what I learned!”</p><p>Yami, while remaining outwardly aloof, does keep an ear open. “A new magic trick?”</p><p>“Yes! Lemme show you!” Leopold exclaims. He puts out his hand, palm exposed upwards. His face twists in concentration as he begins to work his mana, and a plume of flame is born.</p><p>Yami tries not to belittle it. He tries so, <em>so</em> hard. “Cool.”</p><p>“There’s more! Just wait!”</p><p>“Okay.” So he does. Very, very patiently. A whole minute of scrunched, twisty expressions and two drags of his cigarette have to pass before he feels his patience thin out, but then Leopold’s mana flares again. Finally, the fire that had been floating in his palm starts to shape itself, and soon enough, a fiery lion’s bust shows up. Yami, admittedly, feels a slight of pride at the display. “Wow! Finally into shaped mana manipulation, are ya? As expected of the little hard-nosed prince.”</p><p>Leopold lets the fire lion go and chuckles triumphantly. He puts his hands on his hips and lets out one loud ‘n proud, “Ha!”</p><p>“Leo, please, don’t pester Yami too much,” Fuegoleon interjects. He looks to his fellow captain and gives a cheesy smile. “Sorry.”</p><p>Yami waves a hand. “Nah.”</p><p>“Sorry, aniki! It’s always so exciting to see Mr. Yami, that’s all!” Leopold explains. “I <em>really</em> wanted to him my lion trick.”</p><p>“That’s wonderful,” he replies idly.</p><p>“Thanks!”</p><p>“Oi, hard-nosed king. Where did Anegoleon go?” Yami asks. He has yet to see her despite Leopold’s appearance. Glancing over Fuegoleon’s shoulder, though, he only sees that Dorothy, a mini Acier, Nozel—<em>where did that creep come from</em>—and Julius are inside.</p><p>Fuegoleon immediately covers his baby brother’s ears. “She had a panic attack right outside of our family estate’s gate,” he explains with a quiet voice. “Lady Acier is taking care of her right now.”</p><p>Yami feels a slight of confusion as to why Mereoleona of all people would have a panic attack, although…he can sympathize once he thinks about. “Huh. That’s a strange image. I can’t think of what Anegoleon would be like in a panic.”</p><p>Fuegoleon chuckles warmly. “I can count the amount of times I’ve seen her cry on one hand,” he says pointedly. “But, in any case, her appearance is a surprise to Leopold. So if you could keep it under the wraps…”</p><p>“Ohh…I see, I see,” Yami drawls. “Very exciting.”</p><p>“There’s also that boy we saw in Asta’s memories…he has kind of just been glaring at everything from the edge of the room,” Fuegoleon states. “Aneue says his name is Yuno, and that you ran into him in that peasant village.”</p><p>Yami pauses and genuinely tries to recall meeting any other new kid today. He nearly loses the determination to try when he remembers to take a hit of his cigarette, but looking into the dark sky vaguely reminds him. “Hmm…yeah, I think I know who’yer talking about. He’s the feisty one, ain’t he? He and Leo would probably get along. Why not introduce them?”</p><p>Fuegoleon laughs. “I did! But Yuno just crossed his arms and turned his face away. I think he feels very out of place here.”</p><p>He tuts. “Who wouldn’t? But, ehh…’e’ll probably warm up eventually. I dunno the kid. Will could talk to him. He ain’t around though.”</p><p>The elder Vermillion pulls his hands off of a surprisingly quiet and patient Leopold’s ears. “I’m sure he’ll be fine. I just hope he doesn’t feel too forced to be here.”</p><p>“Whatever happens will just happen, I guess,” Yami says. He turns his gaze down to Leopold. “Hey, hard-nosed prince.”</p><p>“Yes, Mr. Yami!”</p><p>“Introduce me to that new kid.”</p><p>“Uh…Yuno?”</p><p>“Is that the new kid?”</p><p>“I think so!” Leopold eagerly grabs Yami’s hand and pulls him inside. They both ignore Fuegoleon’s mannerism-correcting sputters, making their way to one of the side entrances. Leopold stops walking and points a finger at a raven-haired boy. “That’s Yuno.”</p><p>“Huh? That ain’t how you introduce people,” Yami snaps. “Doesn’t yer brother tell you this sh—tuff all the time?”</p><p>Leopold giggles, though it’s flustered and a little nervous being reminded that. “Right! Sorry…”</p><p>Yami would’ve rolled his eyes if Leopold wasn’t already pulling him up to Yuno.</p><p>Immediately, ambers glare menacingly into smoky quartz. “Big oaf bastard,” is all that Yuno says.</p><p>Leopold and Yami are both quiet for a moment. The royal boy obviously hadn’t expected such a vulgar greeting. However, the adult guffaws hysterically when he realizes what he’d just heard come from the ten-year-old’s mouth. He remembers Yuno as clear as day now—this is the rascal with a shit ton of wind mana. He’s the feisty and brutally honest foster brother of Asta.</p><p>Yuno keeps his glare. His tone is short and his voice is low. “What’s so funny?”</p><p>Leopold looks between the two in wonder.</p><p>Yami cackles one last time before he lets himself breathe and speak coherently. “You’re a funny kid, that’s all,” he says. “Thanks for the laugh.”</p><p>Yuno only crosses his arms and turns his face away in moody spite.</p><p>“Um…Yuno?” Leopold says. He reaches out and cautiously tugs at the other kid’s animal skin shawl. “Yuno, this is my friend. His name is Yami. Yami, this is my new friend, Yuno.”</p><p>Yuno turns to face Leopold with a sharp gaze. It’s not a glare, but it definitely belongs to a guarded demeanor. “We’re not friends,” he says.</p><p>Yami rolls his eyes. “You’re not gonna get far in life being that rude, kiddo.”</p><p>“Rude…?” he drawls. “I’m not trying to be rude. I was only saying what I was thinking. I've just barely met Leopold, so we aren’t friends.”</p><p>“You just proved my point. You gotta filter that shi—tuff,” Yami stammers.</p><p>Yuno raises a brow at the close call. “Should <em>you</em> of all people be telling me that?”</p><p>“Uh…I mean, I could tell you more,” the captain points out mirthfully.</p><p>“I don’t wanna hear more.”</p><p>Yami chuckles, but it’s incredibly strained and painfully obvious in how fake it is. He feels his patience burning up like valuable toilet paper. This Yuno brat…he has to be the first kid he’s ever met who only ever wants to push other people’s buttons, specifically Yami’s big ass buttons, and whether or not it’s on purpose doesn’t matter. Might be because of the awkwardly rough first impression—that’s besides the point though. There’s nothing but a need to be semi-decent in front of his juniors, peers and superiors to stop him from verbally beating on Yuno for trying so hard to piss him off.</p><p>(Yami doesn’t realize it, but he gets locked into a glaring contest with Yuno, and poor Leopold hasn’t a clue as to why.)</p><p>Julius eventually wanders over to the stagnant but competitive duo with a jolly air. Immediately, Leopold is in awe of the Wizard King’s appearance. Yami and Yuno are still locked in their contest, and neither of them seem to be showing signs of relenting. “My, my!” Julius interjects. “You two seem to be fighting hard.”</p><p>Leopold’s jaw clicks shut when he hears the time mage speak. “Y-yeah!” he stutters. “They’ve been having this staring contest for so long now!”</p><p>Julius, knowing full well that neither of the two would look away anytime soon, takes it upon himself to physically step between them. His hands are on his hips, his smile is still big, and he looks as if he’d combust with a fit of overwhelming laughter from how happy he is. “Hello!”</p><p>Yuno snaps out of the trance he’d put himself in to compete, blinking and staring up at Julius. He tilts his head a little. “Hello…” he replies hesitantly. “Who’re you?”</p><p>“I’m Julius! And…you’re Yuno, right?”</p><p>Yuno nods. “Yeah. How’d you know?”</p><p>“I’ve heard about you! Mereoleona brought you along, didn’t she?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’m sure this is all very overwhelming for you, but how have you been liking it?”</p><p>Julius watches, careful not to step on the kid’s toes. Only authorities are allowed down under, and he knows for certain that being denied by Acier the chance to see his “taken” foster brother has since put him in a bad mood. Being observant is worth it, too, because something akin to recollection, fear and uncertainty flickers in Yuno’s eyes. He’d likely just remembered something very specific, very recent, and very special to him. Julius knows it might be nothing to think of, but he isn’t alright with making a guest uncomfortable.</p><p>“Um…it’s really bright,” Yuno says hesitantly. “I can’t see the stars very well here. All the rooms are ridiculously big, too, and your outfits are…loud.”</p><p>Julius chuckles. “Oh, yes! We sure do like to show off here in the capital.”</p><p>“Yeah,” he agrees. “I saw…these strange things, though. They were stone posts that spit water. What are they?”</p><p>“You’ve never seen a water fountain before?” Leopold asks, appalled by the lack of knowledge.</p><p>Yuno looks at him, aloof and unashamed. “Yeah,” he replies. “There’s streams and a well in Hage, but not…not a <em>water fountain</em>.”</p><p>“Are they pretty?” Julius asks. Yuno nods attentively. “There’s exactly thirty-seven water fountains in the capital. Each one is a center of a street vendor marketplace, and there’s roughly one or two in each district.”</p><p>Yuno gives him a judging look. “Why would you need to know that?”</p><p>“It’s my job,” Julius explains.</p><p>“Oh. Cool.”</p><p>“Do you not know who Lord Julius is?” Leopold exclaims. He gets into Yuno’s face, his eyes wide with excitement. “This is the <em>Wizard King</em>!”</p><p>Yuno flusters at the proximity, but he doesn’t shrink from the volume. It’s nostalgic, and a melonchanic flutter of happiness tickles his chest and throat. He begrudgingly admits to himself that it’s a weird yet nice feeling to be around such a loud person again. He hates the invasion of space, though. He uses both hands to shove Leopold’s face away. “Don’t you know anything about personal space, you buffoon?”</p><p>Leopold grabs Yuno’s wrists in retaliation, and continues to be loud. “Buffoon?<em> I’m</em> not a buffoon, <em>you’re</em> a buffoon!”</p><p>Yuno glares. “At least I’m not invading personal space.”</p><p>“I was just telling you who Lord Julius is!”</p><p>“Okay, and?”</p><p>“What do you mean, <em>okay and</em>! It’s the highest rank a mage can get!”</p><p>“I know that, you buffoon.”</p><p>“And you’re not shocked by the fact that you’re talking so casually to the Wizard King?” Leopold asks. He’s absolutely astonished by Yuno’s reaction. “Are you peasants immune to excitement and surprise?”</p><p>Immediately, Yuno’s glare becomes a menace. “You’re royalty?”</p><p>“Yeah! I’m a Vermillion!”</p><p>“Then Vermillions suck.”</p><p>Leopold gasps, almost too dramatic for his lungs to handle. “<em>What</em> did you just say?”</p><p>“Vermillions suck,” he repeats without a hesitant beat.</p><p>“Yeah, well—“</p><p>“Leopold, unhand the new boy,” Fuegoleon snaps.</p><p>Immediately, Leopold lets go of Yuno’s wrists. He turns a cheeky expression over his shoulder to Fuegoleon. Yuno finds it amusing, and he lets himself enjoy it with an involuntary smirk. When Leopold looks back and notices the smug look, he huffs and glares. But, unlike before, he does nothing to be confrontational.</p><p>Yuno turns his gaze up to the interrupting man. The resemblance is impeccable to both Mereoleona and Leopold. They have the same eye color, same hair color…it only takes a glance to realize that they’re basically carbon Vermillion copies. Yuno has to tilt his chin up a bit higher to meet Fuegoleon’s eyes. “Who’re you?”</p><p>“My name is Fuegoleon Vermillion,” he says. “You’re Yuno, aren’t you?”</p><p>He nods. He remembers being swept up by the group Mereoleona had brought up with her and seeing this man, but he definitely never got introduced. “How do you know that?”</p><p>“I heard about you,” Fuegoleon simply explains. “I would like to apologize for Leopold’s behavior. He forgets his manners sometimes.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Yuno agrees.</p><p>“He said Vermillions suck!” Leopold hurries to explain. “I was just defending my family!”</p><p>Fuegoleon pats the top of Leopold’s head with a tight expression, knowing full well that the Vermillions—and royals in general—<em>do</em> suck. The older the royal, the more toxic and imposing they are, and, therefore, the more mental damage that is caused. He never voices the facts, though. Leopold can be blissfully ignorant for a little bit longer. “Very good,” he implicitly praises. “However, Leo, you don’t need to be so rough about it. At the end of the day, it’s just a bloodline.”</p><p>Yuno gives Fuegoleon a peculiar look hearing that, but he decides against pestering when he feels two very large mana pools begin to approach. He turns his head and cocks it to look around the apparent Wizard King. There is no one to be seen in the direction he’s staring in at first, but a moment later one of the many outrageous side entrances open to reveal the silver-haired woman from earlier—the one that had denied Yuno’s chance of seeing Asta away. He casts a weak glare, but he lets it slip up pretty quickly when he sees that Mereoleona is right behind her.</p><p>As soon as Mereoleona is in the room, Fuegoleon takes Leopold over without a word of explanation. He simply grabs his baby brother’s hand and pulls him along. Yuno steps up next to Julius, finding that the big oaf bastard has since wandered over to the assortment of drinks, and watches an interesting exchange between three Vermillions.</p><p>Yuno takes notice of Mereoleona’s face. Her eyebrows are pinched together, and she looks uncharacteristically nervous. He points a finger at the scene and turns his eyes to Julius. “What’s the deal with that?”</p><p>“Oh…<em>that</em>…?” Julius drones. “Well, Mereo hasn’t been in contact with her family for ten years. So she’s reuniting with her siblings tonight! Neat, right?”</p><p>“Hm…yeah, I guess,” Yuno mumbles. A part of him wonders for the briefest of moments if the Vermillion reunion unfolding in front of his very eyes would be what it might be like to meet his biological family…but they left him in front of church, next to another bundle, in the cold of October. Asta is way better, anyways. “When can I see Asta?”</p><p>Julius turns his face to the young child standing next to him, slightly taken aback by the straightforward voice and brash tone. He isn’t surprised by any means of disrespect, but he can definitely get a sense of this kid’s personality just from the way he speaks. He’ll probably clash with just about everyone here if he gets into a deep conversation with them. “Uh…well, as far as I know,” he starts to explain, “William has taken charge of him for the night. He’s been asleep, and he’s still wounded. Rest is necessary.”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“Do you not like it here?” he asks. “You seem to be tense. I can have someone send you home if you get to be too uncomfortable.”</p><p>Yuno shakes his head. “I don’t wanna leave Asta alone.”</p><p>“If you say so,” Julius says. He takes a slow step forward, beckoning for Yuno to follow. “I’m sure Asta would want you to enjoy at least <em>some</em> of this party. Come along, let me introduce you.”</p><p>He stares at the man, his face slightly twisted in skeptical thought. “To who?” he inquires.</p><p>“Everyone here, obviously. You’re a guest of this fine establishment and a Clover citizen,” Julius points out. “Plus, it’s a good idea to be friendly with Magic Knight captains! You might wanna join one day, y’know?”</p><p>Yuno says nothing to that, because it’s true. He <em>does</em> want to join the Order of the Magic Knights. He wants to prove to the world that being a poor, orphaned peasant doesn’t matter—just like what Asta had just barely managed to choke out mere days ago now. With that in mind, he simply nods and follows the Wizard King into the small crowd of Clover royals.</p><p>They linger outside of the group for a bit. Leopold is rattling off countless questions that Mereoleona is answering just as fast, mostly with one word, and Fuegoleon has a rather big smile on his face. Off to the side, Nozel and Acier fondly watch. Little Noelle is pulling at her mother’s sleeve, asking what’s going on, and getting brushed off instead. Yuno finds their braids to be ridiculous and impractical, and he does stare, but not long enough to catch their attention.</p><p>Yami is still picking out alcoholic drinks to indulge himself in. Dorothy is next to him, still in a deep sleep, but she does have about six shots of whiskey—three in each hand, and a bubble of snot dripping from her snoring nose. Julius is happily beaming at every interaction.</p><p>When the Vermillion reunion is calm enough, Yuno begins to learn everyone’s names. Acier, Nozel, and Noelle are Silva royals. Acier is the current captain of the Silver Eagles, and Nozel is the current vice-captain. Noelle is Yuno’s age, apparently, but he doesn’t see how that could be relevant. He already knows Mereoleona, Leopold and Fuegoleon. He is still told that they’re a part of the main branch in the Vermillion family. He doesn’t understand the relevance behind that, either.</p><p>Lastly, he learns who the big oaf and the sleeping lady are. Yami, the captain of the Black Bulls, and Dorothy Unsworth, captain of the Coral Peacocks. Yuno doesn’t care to listen to Julius’ rambling facts about them—he does catch the type of magic they have though.</p><p>And then…he’s left in the awkward company of Noelle Silva and Leopold Vermillion. He doesn’t like it.</p><p>“So? Where are you from?” Leopold asks. “You said something about your village earlier.”</p><p>“Are the boonies as wild as I’ve heard they are?” Noelle chips in.</p><p>Yuno gives them both a pointed look. “Why are you asking?”</p><p>“C’mon! We should get to know each other!” Leopold pushes. “I wanna be your friend! You seem cool.”</p><p>“Oh. Thanks.”</p><p>“So? What’s your home like?”</p><p>“Well…it’s nothing like this. Everything’s built out of wood and stone, and lit by torches or candles,” he explains. “You guys have an unnecessary amount of doors and windows.”</p><p>“We’re royalty, that’s why,” Noelle proudly says.</p><p>Yuno doesn’t see the relevance. “Okay. Cool,” he replies.</p><p>Leopold isn’t fazed. “What’s your village called? Is it shabby and rundown? I’ve heard so much about how poor the boonies are!”</p><p>“Stop calling them the boonies,” Yuno berates, but Leopold <em>still</em> isn’t fazed. “We’re poor because our outcome outweighs our income. That’s only for money, though. We produce enough food for ourselves to be able to trade with it instead of paying.”</p><p>Leopold looks fascinated, but Yuno isn’t sure if it’s out of genuine amazement at the fun fact, or if it’s from years of being around greedy, prejudiced high-end idiots. “That’s neat!” he says. “Our families never have to worry about money.”</p><p>“Cool.”</p><p>“What’s your family like?”</p><p>“Small.”</p><p>“How small?”</p><p>“Just me and my brother.”</p><p>“You guys don’t have parents?”</p><p>Yuno glares a bit at being asked that, because it’s true. He doesn’t have parents, only parental figures. “I have a Father and a Sister.”</p><p>“Cool! I just met my big sister,” Leopold says. His grin never falters. He’s never once fazed.</p><p>Yuno can only wonder if this kid is a brick wall like Asta. “I saw.”</p><p>“She’s <em>so</em> freakin’ awesome! She’s way better than my aniki’s stories!”</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>“How’d you meet her?”</p><p>Yuno’s glare gets a big stronger right then. Honestly, he hates being asked so many questions. Still yet here he is, answering each one and replying to each eager-to-inform tidbit Leopold has to offer. Luckily, he still has the orange skin covering his upper body enough to hide his bandaged arm. “She…was traveling through our village,” he simplifies. “She’d been camping so we invited her into our home.”</p><p>“Wow! That’s so nice of your family!” he proclaims. “Thanks for taking care of her! I’m really glad I got to meet her tonight!”</p><p>“Is it true you’ve never met her before?” Yuno finds himself asking. Why that is, he could never figure out with the flow of this conversation. Being able to talk like this, though…it feels nice.</p><p>“Yeah! I haven’t seen her <em>ever</em> before,” Leopold says. “I don’t really know why, but aniki always tells me that if I ever run into her I shouldn’t ask why without being careful with my words.”</p><p>“I bet you’re too much of a buffoon to be careful with your words,” Yuno offhandedly comments.</p><p>“Wh—<em>no</em>, I’m not!”</p><p>“You’re awfully rude, aren’t you?” Noelle chimes.</p><p>Yuno tilts his head. “I’m not trying to be,” he tells her. “I’m just saying what I think. Leopold doesn’t seem like to type of person to be mindful of his own words. You’re too loud and excited about everything.”</p><p>“Oh, you think so?” Leopold happily drawls. He seems to have taken that as a compliment. Yuno had no intention of it ever being anywhere close to one. “Thanks!”</p><p>Noelle voices his thoughts. “I don’t think he meant that as a compliment, Leo.”</p><p>“Well, he wasn’t mean about it!” he points out. “Hey, guys, do you wanna play a game?”</p><p>“What game?” Yuno asks.</p><p>Noelle seems to be ready to object, Yuno can only guess that her comment has to do with being royalty and all of that weird stuff, but Leopold cuts her off before she could even let out a breath. “It’s called knucklebones!”</p><p>Yuno blinks at him. “You royals actually know games like that?”</p><p>His face becomes brighter and happier despite Yuno’s words. “I learned from some kids in the commoner parts of the capital a few weeks ago! It’s so cool, and it’s a lot of fun. Noe, do you know how to play? What about you, Yuno?”</p><p>“I don’t know how to play such a stupid-sounding game,” Noelle grumbles.</p><p>Yuno pointedly ignores the girl and decides right then that he genuinely hates her. “I’ve only played it a few times. My brother keeps losing the knuckles.”</p><p>Leopold laughs and pulls out a handful of goat knuckle bones from his pajama pants pocket. “Let’s play!”</p><p>Yuno raises a brow. “Why do you have goat knuckles in your pocket?”</p><p>“Ew!” Noelle turns her face away and grimaces in disgust.</p><p>“I came prepared, duh! Aniki said I should, anyways, because new kids would be here,” Leopold points out. He kneels down, and beckons to the other two to join. “I’ll teach you, Noe. It’s easy.”</p><p>Yuno sits on his knees right across from him, but he keeps his injured arm under the animal skin. “It’s so easy, even a peasant boy like me can do it,” he offers sarcastically.</p><p>Noelle’s attention is caught when she hears that, and she turns her cringing face back to the duo. “F-fine! I’ll…I’ll play!” she stammers. “Just this <em>one</em> time, though! I refuse to touch goat knuckles ever again after tonight.”</p><p>Yuno sighs. She can’t be serious.</p><p>Leopold laughs, watching patiently while she sits and crosses her legs. “You’ll be fine!” he says as he holds the five knucklebones right out in the middle of the group. “Here, I’ll go first.”</p><p>Yuno watches as the Vermillion boy puts the five knuckles on the back of his hand. His vibrant joy quickly turns into a refined, well-practiced focus and determination. He launches the five knuckles up in the air with a lurch of his hand, and manages to catch four of the five flying knuckles. Yuno is slightly impressed by the accomplishment. He hadn’t expected a royal to be so into a boonies game. “Oh, so you learned the five-piece version,” he remarks.</p><p>“Yeah!” Leopold proudly replies. His grin remains big and strong, and from here Yuno can see that one upper canine tooth is longer than the other three. “Wait, there’s <em>more</em>?”</p><p>Yuno takes the five knuckles into his own hand and nods aloofly. “Yes.”</p><p>“Tell me about it!”</p><p>“Let me show you another version of knucklebones first,” he states. He drops the five knuckles on the ground between their knees, and picks up the centermost piece. He tosses it up in the air to a reasonable height, and quickly turns his hand over. With easy speed, he manages to gather the four scattered bones on the ground—and the fifth one lands on his positioned hand with ease. “Ta-daaa,” he drawls.</p><p>Leopold gapes. “That was <em>awesome</em>!” he exclaims. “Lemme try!”</p><p>Yuno hands the bones over, and watches as Leopold tries to do the version of knucklebones that he just witnessed. He only manages to grab three before the fifth flying knuckle lands on the ground, and upon realizing that he’d failed first try, he flusters. Yuno smirks at the blessed image of a royal failing, but he doesn’t voice his opinion. That would actually be rude. “Throw it higher,” he advises instead. “The shorter the fall, the less time you have.”</p><p>“Oh, good idea! Thanks, Yuno,” Leopold says.</p><p>The second try is a success, and the Vermillion celebrates. Noelle begins to pester her cousin to be taught, arguing that this would be just a waste of time if he didn’t, but Yuno taps out of the conversation almost as immediately as it starts. A familiar pool of mana is right outside this big room that he’s in, and as soon as it catches his sense, he turns his head to the door closest to his back. He watches intensely, waiting for that masked captain to walk in, but when the door opens he feels every ill intention slide away.</p><p>He shoots to his feet, the animal skin falling to the ground as he runs and tackles the smaller boy that enters the room with a tight, relieved hug. “Asta!” he cries out.</p><p>“Who’s that?” Leopold asks, but his question is blatantly ignored.</p><p>“Who cares? It’s probably just another kid from the boonies,” Noelle grumbles.</p><p>“Don’t be mean to him…” Leopold quietly berates.</p><p>“<em>Hmph</em>.”</p><p>Yuno only continues to focus solely on Asta.</p><p>“Yuno…” William Vangeance murmurs, slowly. He’s careful with his words and his polite tone. “I think you’re suffocating him.”</p><p>Quickly, he pulls himself out of the hug. Asta dramatically puts a hand to his chest and slouches with feigned relief. Seconds later, though, he wraps his arms around Yuno. He holds his taller foster brother tightly, and musters enough strength to pick him up.</p><p>Without notice, Leopold is by their sides with two, wide teal topazes. “Wow! You’re so strong!”</p><p>Asta drops Yuno and beams at Leopold’s compliment. He flexes his brute figure, and it brings out a laugh.</p><p>“My name’s Leopold Vermillion! Who’re you?” he asks.</p><p>Immediately, the excitement of the moment slips away. Asta gestures to his throat helplessly, but the gist of the motion is passed without any need of word.</p><p>“Oh! You have a bad throat? So you’re not talking?” Leopold crudely summarizes. Asta nods. “I see! Yuno called you Asta, right? That’s your name, isn’t it? Nice to meet’cha! Wanna join us for some knucklebones? I’m teaching my cousin right now. Her name’s Noelle, by the way—she’s a bit of a prick sometimes but she’ll eventually warm up to ya!”</p><p>The mentioned Silva makes an affronted sound to that last comment.</p><p>Yuno feels displaced by the surefire of sentences and questions, but Asta is matching the energy with eager nods and a glowing expression. Leopold continues to talk, and talk, and <em>talk</em>, and Asta is all for it. Yuno has to block it out much sooner than he thought he would need to. Instead of paying attention to them, he turns his head to William with a dry look that holds a subtle dislike. “I don’t like you,” he boldly says in blatant contrast to his face.</p><p>William smiles, but it’s wide and unamused. “That’s quite alright,” he replies evenly. “I apologize for my actions, Yuno. I understand your feelings.”</p><p>He doesn’t believe those words for a second. “Do you really?”</p><p>“I’m not without hearty bonds,” William cryptically states. “I would’ve done the same as you, if I were in your shoes.”</p><p>Yuno stares, thoughtful, but he does pick up a crafty meaning in those words. He isn’t sure what to make of it though, and decides to just brush it off for later thinking. He says nothing in response, and just turns away to rejoin the one-sided conversation between Asta and Leopold.</p><p>William simply watches with a somber expression. He doesn’t move; he’s ready to fall asleep on his feet right about now.</p><p>“Oh<em>o</em>! Goldilocks, you decided to join the party!” Yami’s familiar voice exclaims.</p><p>He turns to his old friend, and smiles nostalgically at the sight. He hasn’t seen Yami drunk in a little over a year, now. Becoming a captain has proven to be exhaustingly busy. “I did,” he says. “Are you already drunk, Yami?”</p><p>“Pfft! No, I’m only <em>tipsy</em>,” he slurs. He drapes a bulky arm around William’s considerably skinnier shoulders, and guffaws. “C’mon! Let’s go get some more beer! Hey, Creepy Sleepy Lady! C’mere! William needs alcohol! <em>Alcohol</em>, I say!”</p><p>William chuckles, and simply goes along with it. Getting drunk sounds like a splendid idea, and he isn’t against it in the least bit. A part of him adamantly believes he needs it tonight.</p><p>(However, halfway through the party, Yuno’s naturally sensitive ability to pick up pools of mana is tickled by a pale-skinned lurker hanging off the balcony railing. Their eyes do meet, and the lurker never moves—but Yuno pays no mind to it. It’s not the strangest thing to happen to him today.)</p><hr/><p>It is <em>loud</em>.</p><p>As expected of such an endearing and boisterous group, of course.</p><p>Scurrying misfits, an intoxicated almost-couple, sober party poopers, love-drunk partners, a cheering bystander. Song, dance, alcohol, and laughter. Culture, chaos, flirting, blushing, and a certain kind of closeness that only romance can accomplish. Mischief, sticky fingers, and a loud voice.</p><p>“The alcoholic drink that Lightweight Will left unattended is not meant for ya little rats!”</p><p>“Nya, nya, nah boo-boo! You can’t catch me, big oaf bastard!”</p><p>“You’re the biggest little rat of ‘em all!”</p><p>“Sukehiro, my baby sister is not a <em>little rat</em>.”</p><p>“Fight me! I’ll drag you across the floor by your braid!”</p><p>“That is unnecessary buffoonery, and I will not be participating in your petty urge to wrestle.”</p><p>Yami Sukehiro guffaws hysterically and drunkenly at Nozel Silva’s words. “I ain’t petty, though! I bet ya just scared, ya mama’s boy!”</p><p>“Be silent, monkey.”</p><p>“Whew! Racist!”</p><p>“That is not a racist comment. That is an insult that refers to your annoying, rowdy attitude.”</p><p>“Awh-<em>haa</em>…Nozel…did he get on your nerves~?”</p><p>“Vangeance, I would greatly appreciate it if you kept your drink in your hands and away from sticky peasant fingers.”</p><p>A pair of observant red eyes watches the short William Vangeance hook an arm around Yami’s elbow. He leans a little too far forward, and he’s slouching incredulously. He has a cup of beer in his free hand, and even from here it’s painfully obvious that his cheeks are flushed. Yami is no better, but he can at least hold himself upright. “I…” William slurs. “<em>I</em>! I have my drink. It’s in <em>my</em> hand.”</p><p>Nozel switches his accusatory glare to the empty-handed Yami.</p><p>At that, the captain of the Black Bulls snickers. “Wasn’t me!” he exclaims.</p><p>A sleeping Dorothy Unsworth has her slightly flushed face turned towards her fellow captains. Even though she snores and drools a little, she has rather smirtle look on her face.</p><p>Behind the three, Fuegoleon Vermillion manages to snatch the cup of beer from Yuno’s hands. Cheekily, Yuno is grinning. He’s having a lot of fun. Next to Yuno, however, is an equally cheeky Asta with a full cup held rather prominently above his head. Red eyes glue themselves to the children, but eventually a wild goose chase breaks out as Leopold Vermillion does his utmost to capture Asta for snatching the cup of beer.</p><p>In the middle of the room, Julius Novachrono and Mereoleona Vermillion are dancing. It’s a joyful, two-person version of a jig that the modern royals and nobles do whenever food and drink are around, and whenever the party has a lovely cause for celebration. Acier Silva is clapping along, keeping up with a beat as her flushed, semi-intoxicated smile clashes against her well-dressed persona. Asta runs in a circle around Acier, and so does Leopold, and by extension so does Fuegoleon.</p><p>The chase is cut unfathomably short, however, when William grows a thick oak branch from the ground. It snatches Asta right off the ground. “N<em>o</em>~ running, Asta!” he drawls. “You’ll get <em>more</em> hurt.”</p><p>Asta only pouts, but he does give in.</p><p>Red eyes turn to the touchy Vangeance and mindless Sukehiro, narrowing carefully in scrutinizing thought. The dark wizard, and the world tree wizard. The formula…the two components necessary for the Tree of Qliphoth.</p><p>“Get ahold of yourself, Vangeance,” Nozel says. “You’ve barely had any sips.”</p><p>“Yeah, <em>and</em>…?” he replies, his voice wavering as he holds back a burp. “I haven’t eaten <em>all</em>~ day! ‘Course Imma be super <em>duper</em> drunk after a few drinks!”</p><p>Yami busts out again, this time folding and holding his stomach. It continues for much longer and much louder than it usually would. The laughter contaminates William, making him smile and chuckle along despite not knowing whatever could be so funny. Behind the duo, Fuegoleon burns enough of the oak branch as to not cause a big fire, but to release the stuck devil boy. He catches the falling Asta with ease, though beer does spill on the both of them. Red eyes roll at that.</p><p>“What is <em>so</em> hilarious that you have to laugh in such a loud and rude manner?”</p><p>“Pah! Sorry, mama’s boy, I just found it <em>hilarious</em> that you think Goldilocks can actually hold his liquor on a full belly!”</p><p>“Ahh…so <em>mean</em>…”</p><p>“It’s true, though! Oi, Goldilocks, remember that one time a few years back—“</p><p>“I do…<em>not</em>…!” William laughs at himself.</p><p>“Lemme finish, golden boy! As I was saying, remember tha’ one time when Nacht gave ya two shots of straight, uncut whiskey? And you got drunk, like…<em>immediately</em>?”</p><p>“I s—“ He stops himself to hold back another burp. “Still…d’not remember.”</p><p>“Whatever, still good times. Now you’re getting drunk off a few sips of beer! We need to rebuild your precious tolerance.”</p><p>“No, I am too fragile.”</p><p>Yami tuts. “Porcelain doll.”</p><p>“Pfft. ‘At’s a new one…”</p><p>Nozel crosses his arms and points a glare at the two attached peas. He wordlessly walks away from the slurring, drunken conversation to tend to his baby sister. Red eyes glance at him for only a second before they turn back to the Qliphoth couple. However, the period of observation is ruthlessly interrupted by a tickling sensation. A hand brushes it away, but then the watcher winces when realization dawns. It’s a <em>tail</em> causing the tickling.</p><p>Red eyes widen a slight at the sight of the familiarly deformed, clover-like tail tip. “Liebe…?”</p><p>“Jeez, okay. How do you know my name?”</p><p>Rubies, bright and unintentionally scornful against black sclera, meet crimson-like garnets, mute and humane. The owner of the garnets blink in surprise at the question. “You don’t know me?”</p><p>Liebe, sitting very close next to the party stalker, raises a brow very high. He studies the other one’s face—pale, red-eyed…but, really, that’s all he finds to be significant features. “Nah, don’t know you,” he says. “You’ve got pretty eyes, though. What’s your name? What’re ya doin’, spying on this party? The way we are, everyone underneath us can see your butt.”</p><p>It’s true—they’re both out on the balcony, but unlike normal and legal party attenders, their hands are wrapped around the stone fence posts. They’re crouched against the outside ledge, and looming three stories high over a Land of the Sun-style garden. Anyone below the balcony could see a swishing tail and underwear.</p><p>“So? Your butt is out, too.”</p><p>Liebe chuckles at the comeback. “My tail is the most distracting thing,” he points out, “and <em>not</em> my butt. Thanks for noticing, though. It’s all natural.”</p><p>“You’re gross.”</p><p>“Yeah, and? You’re weird. Let’s be besties.”</p><p>“Do you truly not remember me?”</p><p>He tilts his head as dramatically as an owl would twist its head. He stares hard, and he does try to recall who this person could be…honestly, though, he can only see fleeting images. They’re dark, but they’re there, dreamlike and fuzzy and undefined. He does feel a strange emotion plague his chest looking into those eyes, heavy like leather boots in an ocean. He continues to stare through the storm of plain ick that comes associated with the emotional sickness, but he can’t recall this face nor this voice clearly. “Nah, still don’t know ya,” he finally says. “I got shit memory. Too much abuse back in my day.”</p><p>“…Oh. I see. My apologies, I didn’t mean to bring up such a tough part of your past.”</p><p>He tuts. “‘S not your fault,” he mutters. “So? Are you gonna answer my questions?”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Pfft, okay. Why not? Is it because I tickled you? Or is it the butt comment?”</p><p>“It has nothing to do with our recent interactions, you imp. I simply need guaranteed security in order to explain my business to you. I also need you to <em>remember</em>, Liebe. Your memory is shot, but you are still charged with a mission.”</p><p>Liebe gives the newcomer a curious glare. He’s entirely caught off-guard by this outlandish presence. He only wanted to wander around the royal capital—he didn’t want to have a conversation with some cryptic spy hanging off a third-story balcony. Their eyes are locked with each other, silence dominating and breezes whispering. Those crimson-like garnets are trying to tell Liebe a story without any verbal communication…but holy <em>shit</em>, he can’t put a finger on it. He only feels that heavy emotion, and it’s sinking its talons deeper and deeper into his ink heart. “What…what <em>mission</em>?”</p><p>“Hmm…maybe not quite a mission. I believe it can be called more of a promise if I were to break it down.”</p><p>“I can’t keep promises,” he says pointedly. “I’m a demon.”</p><p>Those crimson garnets narrow carefully, voice lowering to a murmur and expression aloof with thoughtful recollection. “Even if it’s a promise for Asta?”</p><p>Liebe doesn’t say anything immediately. Those pretty eyes become rife with melanchonic thought, and he has to look away to avoid feeling choked up. For whatever reason, those words have decided to fray a heartstring and he hasn’t the slightest as to why.</p><p>Regardless, the spy continues speaking. “I know that you’re trying to use them to stop the Tree of Qliphoth and exact revenge on Lucifero.”</p><p>Liebe flinches, and his tail slices through the air in alarm. He tuts and completely turns his face away. “How,” he states rather than asks. “I’ve told no one.”</p><p>He feels a finger tap his shoulder. He recollects himself for a second, just enough to be able to turn around and face this apparent not-stranger with steeled rubies. However, the spoken words completely throw him off. “Meet me under Licht’s skull when you remember,” she whispers. “And be quick. We’re running out of time to start our journey.”</p><p>Speechless, he stares. What the hell is he supposed to make of <em>that</em>? Who is Licht? Where is Licht’s skull? What fucking <em>journey</em>? Who the hell did he make a promise with? What the hell did he promise? Why is the red-eyed girl so familiar with him?</p><p>His thoughts are snapped in half when the girl suddenly lets go of the balcony’s posts, and she begins to fall. He reaches out to grab her wrist, trying to save her for whatever compelling reason, and he nearly does. Before his hand could touch her, the golden wave of a shapeshifting ability washes over her figure. In her falling stead is an anti-magic bird, and Liebe’s hand only grabs air. He glares after the bird, though it does nothing to stop her flight. Quite a strange girl with pretty eyes, but definitely human enough. He tuts in annoyance, taking a deep breath to relax his shaking heart and quivering tail. Those talons never relent, though, and it’s starting to <em>hurt</em>.</p><p>Liebe lets go of the balcony railing right then, but he gracefully lands on the solid ground beneath. He balls his fists up, his tail involuntarily flicking back and forth and his wings tightly tucking themselves into his back. What in the single heaven and nine levels of hell did that stupid girl mean? A promise, <em>for</em> Asta—not <em>to</em> Asta. What the fuck does that mean? Her words were clear, precise, careful, and each sentence had a second meaning. That second meaning, though…what it is? What is he missing? What the hell is it that he can’t <em>remember</em>?</p><p>“…do yourself a favor and quit being a Magic Knight! Disgraceful peasant!”</p><p>Liebe feels his ears twitch hearing that deep and annoying voice. He hasn’t a clue as to who it could be, but he quickly dips low regardless of his knowledge and hides behind a strangely designed stone lamp post. He only pays mind to how much cover it provides him. The garden is strange in its layout—it has levels, and it’s walled off from the outside world. As far as he can tell, he’s on the highest level height-wise and that berating voice had come from down below. Peeking over the edge of the first drop, minding his tail and wings, he notices a rather alarming scene.</p><p>A tall, thick man with no discernible line between jaw, neck, and skull—dressed in purple, wearing a purple Magic Knight robe—is towering over a young man. The young man is standing with his face turned to the ground, shoulders shaking and clothes roughed up by whatever turmoil the taller man has decided to put him through. Liebe is tempted to cut the fatass down, but remembering where he is keeps him in check enough to resist the temptation. He settles for a watchful glare.</p><p>“How can you be so <em>useless</em>?” the tall fatass snaps. “I gave you a single task, and you fail to complete it! It wasn’t even a hard task! I just ordered you to investigate devil-possession!”</p><p>Liebe hums in interest. It seems his bond with Asta has sparked a flame in others. He carelessly rests his jaw in his palm, resting his elbow against the ground to support his head better. It’s clear that he won’t be noticed, given the verbal abuse and anger. “Wonder who he is,” he mumbles to himself. He recalls seeing a tall fatass in that underground room, but he hadn’t really dotted on those details quite enough to recall a face…or anything beyond the height and thickness of that fellow.</p><p>The purple fatass suddenly—or perhaps it’d been the plan all along—grabs the young man’s collar. He gets in the poor boy’s face and murmurs some evil, scary threat, and throws him to the ground.</p><p>Liebe grimaces. He knows that fall all too well.</p><p>However, the purple fatass moves as soon as his junior hits the ground. He looms over his victim, grabbing his shirt collar again, but with one hand this time, and starts to repeatedly slap the young man across the face.</p><p>As soon as the first hit lands, Liebe feels a rush of adrenalin and panic close in on his lungs. Suddenly, he can’t fucking <em>breathe</em>. He struggles to get on his feet. He’s entirely prepared to lurch himself forward into vehement action, because abuse is <em>never</em> tolerable no matter what, but he finds that his muscles are frozen and his blood runs cold. Watching the young man get slapped so many times does remind him of the countless moments of abuse, he vaguely recalls getting beaten enough to the point of numb bleeding, but this time…<em>this</em> time, he sees something different. Something <em>other</em> is flashing in the place of the purple fatass and the young man.</p><p>It’s not countless images of his pathetic being getting thrashed around. Why isn’t it, though? <em>Why</em>?</p><p>Rubble, smoke, fire—dark skies and demonic lightning. Pools of blood underneath countless familiar yet unfamiliar faces, some limbs twisted or missing and not a pair of eyes in sight that is alive and well…all of it is witnessed next to the chiseled and bloodied cheek of his brotherly companion. He manifests his physical body to better assist in the fight against the last devil of Hell. Ripped ink hearts, sharp angry claws, and a moment. A <em>moment</em>. <em>A moment</em>.</p><p>Liebe feels exceedingly terrified. That moment—that <em>single</em> moment—that one, <em>quiet</em> moment, the <em>one</em> moment that had been leering for however long the battle had started, lasted, and continued. He feels lightheaded, his chest is heaving, and his stomach is a shallow pit. His ears ring. What is this imagery? Where is it coming from?</p><p><em>Why</em> does the motion of slapping remind him of such blood-stained horrors?</p><p>“<em>Hey</em>! Garbledre! Stop that shit! Or else I’ll kill ya!”</p><p>Yami’s slurred, angered, solemn voice does nothing to calm his panic attack.</p><p>“Oh, <em>hey</em>~, it’s Asta’s aniki! Hello, friend!”</p><p>William’s endearing pointer does nothing to faze him out of the shock.</p><p>“Pfft, it is…” Yami chuckles, still drunk as shit and showing no signs of sobriety anytime soon. “Oi, <em>Garbledre</em>! Did ya fucking hear me, ya stupid Hard Ham? I told ya to cut the shit!”</p><p>“Be silent, foreigner! This is none of your business!” the purple fatass, Garbledre, finally stops to shout back.</p><p>Liebe, in all of his hyperventilating panic, feels an involuntary chuckle bubble up in his throat. He slaps a hand over his mouth to stop it from reaching anyone else’s ears. He catches it in time, but he still can’t breathe. The air is so thin, why is it so thin? It should be thick and fresh and fulfilling and it shouldn’t be this fucking <em>thin</em>. He feels heavy tears roll down his cheeks, the imagery flashing over and over and over and over and <em>over and over and over and over</em>—</p><p>“Hey…you okay there?” A finger suddenly taps his arm—more like pokes his arm—and the smell of alcoholic breath wafts into Liebe’s nose. “You’re crying…are you sa~ad?”</p><p>Liebe turns his fierce glare to the very drunk William Vangeance, his teeth clenching and his breathing never once slowing down. This imagery…these <em>horrific</em> visuals wouldn’t be haunting his every current second if the world tree wizard and the dark tree wizard weren’t born. “Just…just…” he stammers breathlessly, “…j-just do the world a f-favor and fucking <em>die</em>.”</p><p>If only, right?</p><p>There is a considerable amount of pain and a familiarly long history of traumatic recollection that flashes across those amethysts, but it all lingers and shines. Liebe knows that he’s hit a weak spot. He <em>knows</em> it. William—<em>that stupid fucking drunk ass pushover</em>—still manages to offer up a generous smile. His hurting voice doesn’t match it in the least bit. “Please don’t say that to my face ever again.”</p><p>Liebe feels a powerful pinch of shame choke him up, and he quickly turns his wet, panicked face away with a struggling noise involuntarily escaping his throat. Garbledre is gone, and so is the young man, but the imagery remains. He covers his face, trying to get rid of the visuals that flash across his open-eyed vision. It only worsens when the darkness invades his sight, detailing open, bloodied mouths, burnt flesh, rivers of child’s ichor, metal. Iron. So, <em>so</em> much iron. Too many iron scents, each unique and totally <em>overwhelming</em>. Iron born of slaughter, and not magic, and definitely not anti-magic.</p><p>“Hm…what’s his deal?”</p><p>“I believe our devil friend here is having an intense panic attack.”</p><p>He can do it. He can kill at least one of them right here, <em>right now</em>. He can stop the imagery, he can stop the Tree of Qliphoth, he can…he just <em>can</em>.</p><p>Can he?</p><p>“Oh…? Well, then, that’s another one down for tonight.”</p><p>“Another?”</p><p>“Anegoleon had one before meeting Leo.”</p><p>“I see. That’s unfortunate.”</p><p>“You okay? You seem way too sober.”</p><p>“…Yeah. I’m fine.”</p><p>He’s so <em>weak</em>. Why can’t he move? He should just kill them. <em>Kill them</em>. But their conversation is rather…idle, and heartwarming. The humane warmth they omit with their background talking is very nostalgic and soothing. Why he reacts that way is so incredibly beyond him, but he can breathe a bit easier now because of their self-indulging chatter. He can’t make the fucking decision, he can’t. He <em>can’t</em>.</p><p>
  <em>“Li…ebe? Is that you…?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Horrified rubies struggled to look down at his feet, but they do. Fuck, does he regret looking down. He quickly looked away and, instead, watched as the contract on his wrist began to peel away. The initiator was dying way too fast for any drastic, life-saving actions to be effective.</em>
</p><p>Asta, son of Licita and brother of Liebe, at his feet bleeding heavily, and Lucifero triumphantly laughing only feet away. <em>That</em> is the imagery. He understands those cryptic words much better now.</p><p>These cursed flashing images are his buried memories—and the very reason as to why a promise has been made <em>for</em> Asta…but not <em>to</em> Asta.</p><p>And that changes <em>everything</em>.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>"omedetō": Japanese for "congratulations"</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>tell me what u think! feedback/kudos is always appreciated 🤧🥺</p></blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>